


Absence

by printfogey



Category: One Piece
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-03
Updated: 2011-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:58:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 108,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/printfogey/pseuds/printfogey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the Strawhats has been killed in battle, and the others are left to deal with it. Luffy reacts in a surprising fashion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Survivors

**Author's Note:**

> **Foreword**
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> **(Note: the following foreword contains spoilers for the One Piece manga up to and including chapter 598.)**
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>  
> 
> This 14-chapter story was first begun in late December 2008, and finished in late November, 2011. It started out as a response to a prompt on an anonfic comm, asking for "angstfic in which Luffy has to deal with Usopp being dead": it soon grew from that into a general story of loss and grief involving all of the Strawhats. While I have strived hard not to make this into a darkfic as a whole, there are certainly dark patches in it.
> 
> The story progressed in a rather organic fashion, which was probably a major reason why it took so long to finish: at the start, I was entirely uncertain of where it would take me, and after the first few chapters I often had to wait until things were clear in my head, so I wouldn't write myself into a corner.
> 
> For characterisation rather than plot purposes, I have set it (retroactively) in a Divergence AU where Ace survived at Marineford – but the defeat at Sabaody and the two-year timeskip still happened, and the story takes place in the New World.
> 
> I am very grateful to all the readers who let me know they were following the story with interest as it was posted on Livejournal and fanfiction.net. Without that feedback, I could never have kept going.
> 
> I am exceedingly obliged to my betas, [doewiebele](http://doewiebele.livejournal.com/) for chapters 1–7 and [Tonko](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tonko/pseuds/Tonko) with her inexhaustible patience and attentiveness for all chapters. They are of course not to blame for any remaining errors, which are my responsibility alone – and I'd much appreciate getting told about them. In other words, nitpicks and other kinds of concrit are A-OK; feedback in general is very welcome.
> 
> Ratingwise, the fic as a whole is PG, with some chapters verging on PG-13 for strong language and/or depictions of death. The story is completely gen.

DISCLAIMER: The world and characters of One Piece were created and are owned by Eiichiro Oda, exceedingly brilliant cartoonist. They are used here without permission. This fic is intended for entertainment purposes only and is not to be used for profit in any way.

 

Absence, Chapter 1: Survivors

*

One b one and step by step, the survivors dragged themselves on board the ship. All but the captain were conscious, now. They didn't want to talk to each other, didn't want to say and hear words that confirmed the truth out loud. But they forced themselves to, even so: pale, shaking, nauseous and bleeding as they were, they made the barest of words stumble out. They all – all seven of them - felt like failures; like a being that had been whole but was now broken, crippled, depleted.

Limping and pale, unable to stop trembling, Nami coughed out that they needed to get away from the island, this place of death where the enemy had lured them, hoping to trap and capture or do away with all of them. Granted, they would have gone there anyway since that happened to be where the log pose was pointing, but they might not have rushed in so eagerly, let down their guard that much…

They’d dealt with most of the enemies, but there were still some strong ones left, bent on revenge; and the crew was wounded, heavily outnumbered and deathly tired. None of them objected to Nami’s words. Aching and bandaged, with several bones broken, they still managed to make their limbs do their part, hauling anchor, raising the sails, filling up the engine with cola… But they worked slowly, terribly slowly and somehow not caring at all, their faces gray and empty, everything too stunned and still inside them.

_They shouldn’t have been so stupid, shouldn’t have sailed into that trap, should have realised what was going on sooner, shouldn’t have allowed themselves to be split up, should have finished their respective opponents sooner; they should have known instinctively where to run, who to follow, who to fight, they should have, should have, should have…_

They had all learned in their lives that it was fruitless to be stuck in the past, blaming yourself for what couldn’t be changed. They all knew the best way to honour those who had sacrificed for them was to keep going forward. But that old, dearly-bought knowledge seemed meaningless to them right now.

Eventually, their captain woke up. Chopper announced this in a tired, toneless voice, and they all shuffled over to where he was, some with a great growing fear inside them, others still too numb to feel much at all.

He might already have seen and understood it back when it happened, before collapsing in an unconscious heap once the great Seaking was slain. Nami said she thought as much, but also that she wasn’t sure. They might need to say it again. That was… bad, because somehow it felt that saying it out loud once more would make it even more real. It was a childish way of thinking, but they didn’t care.

In any case, some of them were lucid enough to realise that even if he knew already that might not make things any easier.

Luffy was lying sprawled on lawn deck, all bandaged up, squinting in the daylight as he looked up at them. His gaze went from one to the other, then to the grass underneath him, his mouth forming words silently. Their names, perhaps?

“We got fooled, didn’t we?” he whispered in a hoarse, cracked voice. “Those guys set us up. That guy in the rowboat” – Luffy meant the one they’d picked up miles from here, who’d seemed so grateful and who’d told them such interesting things about the island, like poneglyphs and wondrous medicinal herbs – “he wasn’t really…”

“He was lying, likely” said Zoro harshly, “planted by the Marines to lure us in." It wasn't absolutely certain, but given that the guy had vanished at the first sight of problem, Zoro rather assumed as much, especially since they'd been ambushed. Zoro was in no mood to give people like that the benefit of doubt.

“And…” Luffy’s eyes sought Robin out, holding her gaze, which was as bleak and dark as the others’. “…Robin, you… did you get to read the poneglyphs?” His voice was still just a dry whisper.

She had to look down, shaking her head slowly, swallowing. “No,” she murmured. “They were there, but… I didn’t get the chance to.” There really were poneglyphs on that island; Robin had seen them, on a stone placed high in the centre of the land. Now that she thought about it, it had been remarkably conspicuous. Normally the forces of the World Government would try their best to hide any poneglyphs they found, since the stone itself was too hard to be destroyed - but this one, they'd left standing out in the open. At a highly conspicuous place, no less. 

The enemy had made its first charge right then, driving her and the other Strawhats back. Once they'd realised the island was a trap, full of suicide-mission Marines on land and surrounded by a particularly ferocious type of sea monsters, who seemed to somehow be under Marine control… once that was clear, it had felt important to all of them that at least Robin should get to see and read the poneglyphs, so that the adventure wouldn’t be a complete failure.

What a stupid, reckless, arrogant, _young_ way of thinking, Robin reflected now. They had all agreed to it at the time, though she had objected a bit in the name of common sense. But much too weakly. She at least should have known better, should have refused it, have persuaded them to do otherwise. If they had retreated right away instead, then… then all might still have been well.

And yet she knew that Luffy simply would not have listened to her, no matter how loudly or how eloquently she might have argued. He knew it was her dream they were talking about, and there was no way he wouldn’t have let her pursue that. After all, this was the man who’d blithely incurred the wrath of the World Nobles simply by encouraging a young mermaid to follow her lifelong dream of riding a Ferris wheel.

“I see…” said Luffy now slowly, his gaze growing distant, looking at something none of them could see. They all held their gaze fixed at him, forgetting to breathe. He hadn’t asked about the missing one. Surely by now he must have noticed…? Or he knew already, as Nami suspected.

Then Luffy looked back up at them all, eyes bright and smile wide.

“Well, they sure fooled us, but at least we’re all here! So we’ll get them next time! As long as everyone’s okay, it’s fine! Right?!”

“But we’re not!” Chopper burst out, eyes wide with shock, tears welling up. “Luffy – how can you – we’re not – he’s not -”

“Luffy – don’t you – can’t you remember –” Nami began at the same time, her voice going high and shrill, but stopped when Sanji bent down to put a hand on Chopper’s shoulder, and Brook said in a low voice, “Not now.”

“He needs time,” the skeleton added when the others turned to look at him. “We’ll talk to him… but later.”

Luffy lay still on the lawn, still looking serene and sunny, as if he hadn’t noticed a thing. “I’m gonna sleep now,” he announced. Moments later, he did. Chopper swallowed repeatedly, trying to blink back the stream of tears; then managed to control himself enough to sit down next to Luffy in order to check that he was indeed on the mend. In body, at least.

Later, Brook would often wonder if he’d said the entirely wrong thing

 

***

Luffy couldn’t see why everyone was still looking all sad and gloomy now. So they’d been stupid and had fallen for an enemy trick, but so what? That was in the past. Now they just had to follow the log pose to a new island and keep the flag flying, as they always had.

And that was odd, too, with the flag. Once he got well enough to run around the ship again, he saw it hanging halfway down the mast now. It didn’t look right that way at all, so he climbed up and put it back on top where it should be. That was where it wanted to be, after all. What other place could there be for a pirate flag?

When he’d jumped down Nami had stood there, staring at him with that weird look that looked both sad and angry and which had even started to annoy Luffy a bit. It wasn’t as if he was doing anything wrong, he was just putting things back where they were supposed to be. But maybe there was some Mystery Gloom Sickness going around? He shrugged and decided it was better to just ignore it, sidling past Nami to go somewhere else.

The next day he looked up at it the flag was back halfway down the mast again. It was still wrong. Luffy frowned but left it be this time around. Sometimes you had to humour your crew.

But he really couldn’t understand it. They were all here after all, all eight of them! He, Zoro, Nami, Sanji, Chopper, Robin, Franky and Brook! And Sunny, too! Wasn’t that what was really important, after all? That they were alive and well and kept going after their dreams together? Sure, it felt better winning battles against your enemies, but that still shouldn’t count for so much! They were all being weird.

Well, that just meant it was up to him to keep things as they should be. Even Chopper was way too serious these days, sometimes bursting out in tears for no good reason at all. All the more reason for Luffy to keep after him, Brook or whoever else wanted to fish or play games or sing or dance with him! It was for their own good, after all. And often they did start to smile or laugh eventually, so that proved he was doing the right thing!

Granted, maybe those smiles didn’t always look quite right and the laughs could sound a bit weak, but maybe people were just out of practice. It would get better! Brook would often be stupid and start playing sad songs that Luffy didn’t like to listen to, and he wouldn’t play “Binks’ Booze” at all, no matter what. But eventually, if Luffy nagged him enough, he might play something faster and happier-sounding, something you could dance too.

But the sad songs, there was something wrong with them, something Luffy hadn’t noticed before. They were like claws grasping after you, tearing into you. Brook wasn’t doing it right any more. Still, when Luffy shouted at him, the songs would either change or he’d stop playing. That was better at least.

Sometimes the others would even start saying words to him that didn’t make sense, as if they thought Luffy could speak all the languages in the world or something. Normally maybe Luffy would have asked about strange words he didn’t know, but this just sounded like gibberish and he didn’t feel like trying. Besides, he couldn’t even recall them. They just slid right through his head without sticking to anything. So Luffy would just ignore that stuff since it couldn’t have anything to do with him. He’d go look for something else to do instead.

“It’s all right, it’s all right,” Luffy would mumble to himself at times, almost without quite hearing what he was saying. “I’ll be King of the Pirates, it’s all right…” He didn’t know why that would feel necessary to say since he already knew it. But somehow saying the words felt better. “It’s all right,” he’d whisper, “it will be all right, I’ll be a good captain…”

***

It was Nami who had been the one closest to them when it happened, not all that much behind. And since Luffy was in no state to tell them about it later, it was Nami the others had had to turn to, one after the other, as they had tried to puzzle it out. Too many times, she’d had to take deep breaths and force herself to retell what she'd seen. She managed to control herself and not snap that she really didn’t want to recall all that again; that she felt as if the others were accusing her. She knew that was wrong, and she knew it was her duty to her crew to let them know, so she always got past her reluctance and told the story one more time. At times it would all sound unreal to her ears.

They’d taken different routes when they’d split up for the intense fighting with the Marines on the island, who were all much harder, tougher and more ruthless than normal Marines. Apparently, if their commander were to be believed, these troops were all part of a punishment battalion and would have faced Impel Down or execution but for accepting this mission. Some of the enlisted men even wore explosive collars, similar to the ones the World Nobles used for their slaves.

Nami had fought a fierce battle of her own, facing a creepy squad of pale, thin, disturbingly similar Marines who kept quietly chuckling as they launched their clever combination attacks at her. They hadn’t been as strong nor as fast as some opponents she’d defeated in the past, but they’d been vicious, surprisingly tough and very well-coordinated, before she managed to lure them into a weather trap which took out the lot of them.

It was by then that Nami had seen Luffy and Usopp run into a mountain tunnel leading away from the Marines. She’d followed, calling out to them. They had shouted back enough to let her realise they thought Thousand Sunny might be under attack, and that this tunnel was the quickest way to get there and stop it.

By then, Luffy had already defeated the Marine in charge, but not before that self-righteous, boasting bastard had used his power to summon the greatest Seaking Nami had ever seen, itself the leader of all the other gigantic sea monsters that had converged around the island. And when Luffy and Usopp had last seen that enormous creature, its head had turned in the direction where Sunny was.

In her dreams now, Nami would constantly find herself back in that seemingly endless mountain tunnel, lit by torches and lanterns as far as she could see ahead of her. Holding her ClimaTact ready, she was trying to force herself to run faster, faster, faster… In truth the passage hadn’t been all that long, but in dreams or reality the result was the same. She was always too late to change the outcome, too late even to see the fatal blow.

Running as fast as she could towards the open doorway, Nami had heard the sounds of fighting, of crashing impacts, of explosions, of shouts and great splashes, of the strange, alien, whining-snarling sound from the King of Seakings as it struggled. She’d heard familiar attack names from Luffy and Usopp both, and had tried to ready herself to join them in the fight. She prepared an attack as she ran, keeping in mind that she’d emerge high up the mountain, if this tunnel led where she thought. Then just before she reached the entrance she’d heard a sickening, tearing sound.

These sea monsters weren’t just particularly large – they were different from all others she’d seen. They weren’t octopuses or giant squids but they had some kind of weird limbs that were long as tentacles, along with more usual fins. Only, they weren’t soft and wriggly… they were sharp. Real sharp, like blades, or spears; or like enormous single-digit claws. Earlier, Nami had seen one of them accidentally slaying one of the nearby Marines by cutting his body entirely in half, with just one careless blow.

Now, she kept wondering if she was recalling the moment correctly or if that earlier shocking memory of the unlucky Marine had made her mind alter what she really saw. But she couldn’t stop seeing that image of a monstrous, bloody spear-like limb, waving as if in triumph over a body cut entirely in half before it started to fall down... And near it, flailing wildly in wide arcs, was a lengthened rubber arm that had been trying to catch hold of his sniper before it was too late.

She’d screamed – whether it was wordlessly or Usopp’s name she didn’t even know, but she did remember Luffy turning towards her, and then she’d seen his eyes were full of blood running down from wounds in his head. The King of Seakings must have been right outside the opening, maybe waiting for them to arrive so it could land the first blows. Luffy would probably have fought blindly most of that short time, as he still was.

All this was things she’d realised later, making sense of what she’d seen. Right then she’d only had time to register Luffy screaming too, then her gaze had been drawn down to the body of her crewmate, falling down, down towards the distant shore below them. Except later she couldn’t remember the… the body still being in two pieces then, just one. So maybe that first terrible image was wrong after all. Or maybe it was the second memory that was wrong, her mind trying frantically to protect her from what was too late to deny.

Luffy had moved, managing to wipe away blood from one of his eyes, and Nami would swear later that his gaze had gone where hers did, following that frail human body going down, either torn in half, as Nami’s first memory said, or run through and mortally wounded, as her second memory thought. He’d screamed once more, trying to reach Usopp, but the sea monster had struck again, slamming Luffy’s body into the mountain at the same time that one spear-fin reached for her. She dodged it and then unloaded a Thunder Lance Tempo into the creature, but it had been enough to make Luffy realise it was too late.

Or so she had thought, at the time. She’d been afraid to look at his face, but the way she remembered it, the King of Seakings hadn’t lasted very long after that.

\- end of Chapter 1 -


	2. Everything Is Fine

Absence, chapter 2: Everything Is Fine

 

The days passed, but nothing seemed to change. The ship sailed on at the course that the log pose indicated, the crew listlessly following orders from an equally listless Nami. Zoro didn’t do half as much training as usual, nor did he sleep much. He went around actively looking for chores instead. But he didn’t find a lot. All of them seemed to have the same idea; trying to make their hands do something, keep moving, afraid of what would happen if they stopped.

Each of them tried their best to do their part in what was needed on ship, trying to be strong for the others. Each of them forced themselves to hold together in order to do that much, scared that if one link broke down it would tear all of them up, part of them resentful and part of them grateful that they couldn’t allow themselves to mourn now, not yet, not yet...

Nami and Chopper were the ones least successful at holding back the tears. That didn’t mean those two didn’t have to control themselves most of the time. Nami had her ever-present responsibility of day-to-day sailing business, now with no idea where the log pose would take them next. And Chopper, in addition to his medical duties, now had to try and try to keep his chin up and smile bravely. Chopper had always been lousy at hiding his feelings, but still he took part in as many of Luffy’s games as he was able to bear. Occasionally Luffy succeeded in coaxing a genuine smile out of him, though not very often. That made Chopper feel a conflicting mix of emotions: on the one hand, pride at making his captain happy; on the other, a heavy shame at forgetting his grief even just of the moment. And then he couldn’t help crying, however much he tried to be strong. But Luffy would act as if nothing had happened, staring towards the horizon with a glassy look and a fixed grin.

Maybe it was because Nami and Chopper would cry more often that the other five tended to find themselves near them – not so much to offer comfort (what comfort could they offer, really?) but for more selfish reasons. In some sense, it was like those two were crying for everyone, because the rest of them, even Brook and Franky, couldn’t allow themselves to.

None of them could face holding a big meeting to talk things over with everyone. They talked when they had the strength for it, usually just one on one in whatever corner of the ship they might find themselves in; at most three of them together. It was that way, bit by bit, they all heard Nami’s account of how it happened; and it was also how they realised that no-one but Luffy could have torn down Sogeking’s wanted poster in the boys’ cabin, even if no-one had seen him doing it.

That had been unexpected. There had been no other indication of Luffy realising the identity of the King of Snipers. But it wasn’t as if any of them really understood what went on in Luffy’s mind these days. Maybe he’d just acted on instinct. Or maybe it was only because Sogeking was supposed to be Usopp’s friend especially, and somehow Luffy couldn’t bear that particular reminder.

After a day or two had passed, they’d all pretty much put aside Brook’s initial advice and made themselves talk about Usopp within the captain’s hearing. Hesitantly and obliquely at first, they soon spoke more and more directly, always with a cautious, apprehensive glance in Luffy’s direction. But the manner in which they spoke didn’t seem to make any difference. Luffy just acted as if he hadn’t heard a thing, or as if they’d been talking in a wholly different language that he couldn’t be expected to understand. He’d simply look away as if waiting for them to talk about other things again. Or he’d saunter off slowly, humming a tune or mumbling something they couldn’t hear, leaving them staring after him helplessly.

*

"Luffy? You, uh, okay up there?"

Luffy looked down from his perch on Sunny’ figurehead on Franky in surprise. Of course he was okay! Why wouldn’t he be?

“Hiya, Franky! Sure, it’s fine! I’m always fine!!” he said, grinning widely.

“Oh. Well, that’s good,” said Franky, stepping closer. Even Franky was weird and over-gloomy these days, thought Luffy. He wasn’t posing or laughing or playing his guitar half as much as he should. Then again he wasn’t really crying much either.

Franky coughed. “I… I kinda thought it sounded like you were talking to someone, just now,” he said, looking both a little nervous and a little hopeful.

“I was talking to Sunny!” Luffy explained brightly. He patted the lion’s head below him. “He’s such a great ship!”

Franky brightened, smiling in a better and righter way than most of the crew did these days. “He is, isn’t he? My pride and joy! Don’t worry, he’ll bear us all a long way yet.” He knocked on the railing, striking what looked like a carpenter-ish kind of pose, as if holding a hammer high.

Luffy nodded. “We’ll go all the way to One Piece!!”

“Right, and then back around the world,” said Franky, sighing in a half-proud, half-sad way. Why did there have to be a “half-sad” in there as well? Luffy didn’t like it.

He frowned, but then brightened again as he said, “We’re sure lucky we met you, back in Water 7! And that you wanted to build it for us, right when we were looking for a shipwright too!”

Franky shrugged a bit. “Well, uh, what else could I do…” he mumbled, and then said something about having taken some money but that just sounded weird to Luffy, who couldn’t remember anything like that. Instead, Luffy turned his head and looked out at the water, and at the clouds far away which they were sailing towards.

“Sometimes it even feels as if we’ve sailed with Sunny even before that,” he said, almost to himself.

“Huh?” Franky sounded pretty surprised. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I know we had a ship before that, of course, but I can’t really remember much about it,” Luffy explained. After all, there must have been one, else how could they have gone so far, to Whiskey Peak and Little Garden, Drum Island and Alabasta and Skypiea and everywhere else? Luffy couldn’t really remember what that ship had been like, though. “But I’m sure it worked well enough, or we wouldn’t have gotten that far,” he added.

He heard Franky inhale sharply below him, and then the shipwright said, “I can’t believe you forgot – ” but then he went on to make one of those gibberish sounds that didn’t make any sense, that just slid around in Luffy’s head, so Luffy just zoned him out. You couldn’t talk to your crewmates when they insisted on not making sense like that.

He patted the wood next to him instead. It felt reliable and comradely under his touch in the warm sun. “Don’t worry, Sunny, we’ll take good care of you,” he mumbled, then leaned back as he heard the sound of Franky’s bare feet retreating. Franky was a great guy and all, but somehow things felt just a little safer now that they were alone again, him and Sunny.

He hummed a little tune under his breath, then mumbled, “It’s all right, it’s all right, it’s all a lie, I’ll protect them.” If someone had asked him, he wouldn’t have been able to explain what he meant by those words. He simply felt better for saying them. Anyway, there was nobody there to ask him.

 

*

 

“There’s something that bothers me,” murmurs Zoro. “One thing in particular, I mean. I don’t know, but maybe… could be maybe that’s what bothers Luffy too, so much that he won’t remember.”

Sanji lights a cigarette and puts his hands in his pocket, giving Zoro a bleak, tired look as he leans back in his chair. They are sitting in the galley. It’s a bright sunny day outside, and no-one else is here at the moment.

“What is it?” he says, also in a fairly low voice, although there is no real reason to be quiet. Except, perhaps, to not scare your thoughts away.

"It bothers me,” Zoro repeats quietly, running a finger along the sheath of Wadou Ichimonji, “that I don’t know if he went out like he would have wanted to. Yeah, okay, I know he really didn’t want to go at all. He wanted to go on and see Luffy find the One Piece and go back to his village and… and all of that…” Zoro’s voice falters, just a bit, his hand opening and closing uselessly.

“I know. Go on,” mumbles Sanji tonelessly, looking down. Zoro swallows, takes a deep draught of the glass of wine in front of him that Sanji has just poured him, then clears his throat and continues, still very quietly.

“But… if he _had_ to go… he’d have wanted it to be in a way that would have made his dream come true. The way… the way a brave warrior of the sea would go. Now… now, you know…” Zoro looks away a bit at this, his voice growing harder, “…as far as I’m concerned, he did. He was only in danger because he was sailing with us in the first place, and he made that decision himself. And the last we know he was running _into_ danger, not away from it.”

Sanji gets up and pours Zoro some more wine, then some for himself. “I know.” Then, as Zoro goes quiet again he adds, “What’s your point?” in a voice harsher than he’d intended.

“Point is, maybe that’s how I see it and how you see it, but would _he_ have seen it like that? You know what he’s… what he was like. He’d probably dream of some great glorious sacrifice, you know? If he couldn’t do a thing against that Seaking – and he might not have gotten the chance to, it sure was a big and nasty piece of work – well, maybe, maybe Luffy would also think…” His voice dies down, and he sits still, looking at nothing.

“Would think he didn’t go in the right way after all?” Sanji finishes for him. “That he didn’t reach his dream?”

“Just a thought,” mutters Zoro, shrugging awkwardly, his movements a lot tenser and clumsier than usual. His face looks drawn and weary.

“Maybe,” says Sanji, drinking deeply. He really has no idea. After all, none of them have known before this how Luffy would react if any one of them was irretrievably gone. A dream gone unfulfilled might be what tips him over the edge into safe oblivion. After all, Luffy can’t become a brave warrior of the sea _for_ Usopp. He already is.

“Maybe that’s why,” murmurs Sanji. “Or maybe there’s something else, something we don’t know about. Or maybe he just can’t…” He closes his eyes tightly for a moment, part of him deeply tired, another part just numb and blank. He keeps going around wanting to start screaming, sometimes trembling with the effort of not doing so.

“I’d’ve thought he was stronger than this.” Zoro’s voice has shrunk down to something like a hoarse whisper, almost sounding ashamed of what he says. That is so strange and unlike him that one would think it would startle Sanji. But it doesn’t, not at all.

“He doesn’t remember Merry either, you know,” Sanji says, blowing out smoke, trying to hide the tension from his voice. “Franky told me.”

Zoro nods. “Already noticed,” he mutters. “Same deal. He just blocks the name out.”

None of them say, “we can’t keep on sailing like this”. But the thought is there, hanging unspoken in the air between them.

“Nami keeps saying she doesn’t know if he fell into the sea or not,” Sanji says tentatively. But Zoro doesn’t seem to be listening, or if he does he won’t catch the hint in Sanji’s words. Not yet, at least.

They sit and drink in silence, instead.

 

*

 

One day Luffy and Chopper and Brook are all sitting by the railing fishing. Chopper and Brook are mostly silent, but Luffy chats a lot about everything and nothing – what it would be like to be a fish, some of the fishes they’ve seen, compared to some of the people they’ve met on various islands, what kind of fish he’d most like to be and to eat, and so on, his thoughts seemingly jumping from one point to the other like leaping fish on the surface of the sea. Chopper is content to just hum or go “Maybe” or “I don’t think so” or “Right” now and then, although sometimes he’s swept along with the weird current of Luffy’s mind and can only widen his eyes and go, “Do you really think so? That would be pretty cool!” forgetting for a moment the usual cold, twisted feeling in his stomach these days. Brook does much the same at the other side of Luffy, sometimes injecting a word or two often having to do with mermaids or other pretty ladies. It’s a hot day, but they’re sitting in the shade, and the breeze feels pretty nice.

Chopper has just started to feel that maybe today will be one of the not-terribly-bad-days, when Luffy lets out a sudden, surprised laughter, as if just thinking of something. He looks down at Chopper, his eyes glittering, but with that faint glassy, slightly sweaty look on his face that makes Chopper’s heart hurt.

"Maybe… maybe we’ll get something real big this time!” Luffy exclaims. “Like… like the time when I caught an army of fishmen on just one hook! You should have seen it, it was so awesome! I don’t know why they were all standing so tight together they got caught into one another, but they sure got grumpy enough when I pulled them up! I had to fight them off, of course, you can’t really eat fishmen, not that it was any trouble for me!! After all, I had 8 000 men behind me!”

He laughs a bit again, apparently ignoring the way Chopper stares at him, frozen, or maybe taking it for stunned admiration. Brook makes a small startled sound, looking at both of them for one very long moment. Then he swings himself around, stands up, walks over to Chopper and holds out one long bony hand to steady the reindeer.

“Are you all right, Mr. Chopper?” he asks in a rather loud whisper.

Chopper is not all right, not at all, but he’s grateful for Brook’s help in getting down from the railing. He mumbles weakly, “I think I have to go now,” before running away to his study, ashamed at his leaving Brook alone with the duty of captain-watching but knowing he wouldn’t be any good at it right then. Later, maybe. It didn’t use to feel like a duty at all, back in the old days when everything was fine.

When Usopp was still alive.

Chopper makes himself think the thought through to the end without flinching. A pirate and a doctor needs to be able to see the truth for what it was, even when you can hardly breathe for the heavy, burning sobs that make your body shake. Part of him wishes he could deny it all like his captain does, but he knows that would only cause his crewmates more pain.

They can’t go on like this.

 

***

 

Luffy hums a little tune, swinging his legs around as he sits there on the railing, tugging on the brim of his hat. “It’s all right, it will be all right, I’ll protect them,” he murmurs in a sing-song rhythm. “It’s all right, it’s all a lie, tomorrow will be a peaceful day in the village…”

Then he blinks a bit, wondering what made him mumble those words in particular. What village? There’s no village around, just open sea as far as the eye sees. What’s so special about tomorrow? Besides, pirates don’t want peacefulness, that’s just boring! They want adventure!

Yet the words had sounded right when he’d said them, had felt right on his tongue.

He shrugs and moves his fishing rod a bit, looking at the glittering waves, humming some more. There’s a hard, sharp and heavy feeling in his chest that seems to be there all the time these days, but he’s grown so used to it he hardly notices it any more.

Other than that, he feels fine.

\- End of Chapter Two


	3. Council

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The interplay between past tense and present tense in this chapter is systematic and deliberate. (Whether it works well or not is a different matter, but at least it's not a random error.)

Absence, Chapter 3: Council

 

“All right,” said Nami, lighting the lamp on the table before sitting down. She looked around at the crew, assembled around the table in the galley. “I guess I’d better start, now that everyone is here.”

“Uh. Just checking here,” said Franky, holding up one finger, “but Strawhat’s asleep right now, right? We don’t have to speak in code in case he barges in or anything like that?”

“He’s asleep, all right,” said Sanji tiredly. “There’s a reason I cooked that big octopus with that stuffing and all the sauces, and then served the cake for desert. Even Luffy’s going to take some time digesting that.”

“I used the sweetest lullabies I could think of, too, when I played for him just now,” Brook pointed out.

“That’s true,” said Nami, giving Brook an appreciative smile. At first she’d asked if he could use that “Lullaby Flan” move of his, the one that sent people to sleep immediately, but Brook had explained that the drawback of that move was that people often didn’t sleep very long. Using a softer kind of persuasion with suitable melodies was a slower method, but it tended to yield safer results in the end. According to Brook, anyway.

A light of realisation and mumbles of oh-I-see went around the table, among those in the crew who hadn’t been in on it from the start. Luffy wasn’t the only one who’d felt drowsy after that particularly heavy dinner, which had offered not only the freshly-caught octopus but also spare steaks from the freezer. But the extra-strong coffee that Sanji had just served everyone was helping chase the sleepiness away. Nami was glad she’d kept Chopper well away from Brook’s lullabies, else he’d probably be asleep too.

“He _could_ still wake up,” she warned Franky and the others, “but I think we have a while. And maybe he’ll sleep until morning.” It was pretty late in the day, after all, the sun growing large and red outside.

It still felt very strange and wrong to go behind his back like this... But what other choice did they have? Whether the others would agree with her or not, they’d only be able to discuss the matter freely if Luffy wasn’t there.

“Okay,” she said now, clearing her throat and sitting up straighter. “So. I think… I think we can’t really go on like this. Like we’re doing now. I’m sorry, but… I don’t think we’re strong enough. And what I think we should do is… go back.”

“Go back to that place,” said Zoro in a flat tone that was neither agreeing nor disagreeing. His face was impassive and unreadable.

“Yeah. I think we left too quickly,” she said. “We weren’t thinking very clearly, all wounded and in shock, and the log pose had already set… But when you think about it, I doubt they’ve sent new troops there yet. Unless they already plan on trapping someone else that way… Even if they have, even if there’ll be the same amount of sea monsters, we know the ground now and can lay a battle plan in advance.”

 

*

Nami thinks she’s keeping herself together at the moment, that she’s presenting her usual sharp, collected self to her crewmates. She doesn’t notice the nervous, urgent undertone in her voice; the way she’s unable to keep still; her tiny, repetitive movements of fingers drumming on the table, legs rocking, shoulders twitching. Her hair is unkempt, her posture tense, and her clothes could do with a wash. There’s a glint in her eyes that’s close to feverish. Then again, most of the people in the room look even more tired than she does.

More and more, she feels on the move, in a hurry, unwilling to sit down in one place for long. Even at mealtimes she tries to finish quickly, though then at least her arms and hands are always moving. There are nightmares where she’s being followed by something that’s large and invisible that never grows tired: sometimes she almost feels like she can hear the footsteps of that nightmare beast in the day.

She’s tried and tried to work hard and keep doing what they always do and it’s not working. Now she has to do this. If she doesn’t, no-one else will.

On her head be it.

*

“Those guys back there… they used a whistle or somethin’ to lure the seakings there, didn’t they?” mumbled Franky now. “But we destroyed that. _He_ did. I know. I was there and I saw it.” It had been a simple Gunpowder Star, but aimed perfectly: it had been enough to blow up the oddly shaped bone whistle and cause a nasty wound in the jaw of the Marine commander. Luffy had taken over, after that.

“They might have others,” said Nami. “But if we plan for it…”

“You can do that, Nami-baby?” said Sanji, leaning his elbow forward, his head propped up on his hand. “Sail through the Grand Line without a log pose or a Vivrecard?” He looked exhausted: there were lines under his eyes, his shoulders were drooping, and there was a greyish tint to his skin. Now he was staring intensely at Nami as if she held the one and only key to salvation there was in the world.

*

Sanji doesn’t know how long he has before he starts crumbling, unless something changes soon. He doesn’t sleep very much these days. When he does, there are times when he has happy dreams, even now – or rather, they’re dreams that are nice while they last but awful to wake up from: to realise they were only dreams.

More often, there’s the same recurring dream where he’s running through a dark city, one with immense towering houses, infinitely long, curving streets, and not one single person about. And Sanji is running, running very fast but with his head down, eyes fixed on the ground since he’s following a trail of blood, crimson and splotchy on the dark cobble stones.

But the trail just goes on and on through the endless streets and no matter how fast Sanji runs – and he runs so fast his chest is burning and he’s gasping for breath – he can never catch up.

Even that dream is better than waking up, though. At least in the dream he’s still running, still hoping. It’s in vain, but it’s something.

 

*

Trying not to flinch from that burning look, Nami nodded in reply to Sanji’s question. “We can do it. Not very easily or quickly, but we can, because the weather has been holding clear ever since then. Both day and night. So I’ve been able to carefully track our course in relation to the sun and to the constellations. As long as we can see the sun and the stars, we can get back there.”

“Wow, I had no idea you could do that, Nami!” exclaimed Chopper, his eyes grown large with amazement. “But – but what if it turns cloudy?”

“Then we’ll have no choice but to furl the sails until it clears,” she said. “Drop anchor if possible, or if there’s nothing to fasten it on, just stop pushing and hope we won’t be driven too far off course. It could take days to get back on course once it clears, but it’s the only way we could do it.” She looked around again at everyone. “It would be tough, you know, especially if we sleep in shifts and sail at night as much as possible. But the stars are easier to navigate by than the sun. Only, we’d all have to work hard and might not get much sleep.”

They nodded in understanding. They didn’t get all that much sleep these days, anyway. But Robin said gently, “Nami, perhaps you should go on to explain why you think it’s so important to get back. I know you’ve talked about this with some of us already, but we should all hear it together, I think.”

Brook coughed cautiously. “I thought it was about the poneglyphs,” he said. “To let Miss Robin read them. And also, the… the possibility that… there might be a burial.”

The air felt heavier, more silent. All eyes were fixed on Nami. She looked down on the table now, her fingers making small circles in the non-existent dust. “Yes,” she said hoarsely. “And more than that.” She cleared her throat. “You see, guys… and I know I’ve said this before, to most of you… but I’m _not_ just imagining it! It’s really true that I never saw if he fell into the water or not. If he did and I knew it for sure, well, then there’d be nothing to do about it. It’s not like I think he could have… that he… you know. It was way too high up and the wound was way deep… it… it wouldn’t…” She closed her eyes and swallowed tightly, then clenched her fists and went on. “…I’d still want us to go back there, but now even more so. Because he might also have fallen on land. And… if he did, then we should make sure he gets buried properly. Or, or maybe we could make it a proper sea funeral instead, but… but we can’t just let him _lie_ there. If he is.”

“But,” she goes on, opening her eyes and speaking into the silence, “those are not the only reasons. I think, if we went back there, it could force Luffy to remember.”

She paused. Nobody said anything except for a very soft “Ah” coming from Brook’s corner.  
Nami looked away from their stark faces for a moment, down at the knuckles of her left hand. She picked at the tablecloth, then looked up again, despair in her voice when she next spoke.

“We’ve given him time enough… but he doesn’t seem to be able to break out from what he’s doing by himself, and nothing we do seems to work. He just won’t listen to us, no matter what! And this is the only thing I can think of.”

There was a long, thoughtful silence, finally broken by Robin.

“You know,” she said, “about the poneglyphs… I think we should consider the possibility that they wouldn’t be of much use at all, even to me. They could say something entirely pointless.”

Nami and Chopper frowned at her. “Didn’t you tell me once that if you read all the poneglyphs, put together they will reveal the truth about the true history?” said Nami, and Chopper nodded emphatically, for he’d heard her say that too.

“I said I _thought_ so, that they _might_ reveal it,” said Robin sharply, then sighed. “It’s nothing but a working hypothesis. If it were only me, that would be one thing – but it’s certainly not something I’m prepared to risk the lives of my comrades for.” _Again_ , her tone said clearly, even though her words did not.

“Well, you can’t know if they’re useless either, without going there,” Zoro pointed out in an even tone. “Though… I’m not sure myself if going back is what we should do now. But I do know we have to do _something_.” He took a deep breath, then looked up, first at Nami, and then at all of them. “We can’t trust Luffy to make the right decisions for us right now,” he said in a low but very, very heavy voice. “Not when he’s in this state.”

“It’s not like I don’t think he can still fight,” he went on, speaking slowly but without hesitation. “We all saw that yesterday. But making the right decisions about who to fight and when, and what everyone should do? …I don’t think he’s able to do that, right now.”

The crew exchanged glances, unease about Zoro’s statements mingled with reluctant agreement on most faces. For some there was a certain small relief, too, that the first mate said this so they didn’t have to. And they all recalled yesterday’s skirmish very well.

**

“I’ll take care of it.” Luffy’s voice had sunk down to intense seriousness, his face all set, grim and dangerous as he stared fixedly at the enemy vessel moving towards them. Zoro, who had drawn his swords and moved up to the railing besides him, started a bit, glancing at him with surprise. It was the first time Luffy had looked anything close to serious since it happened.

“These guys don’t look all that dangerous to me,” said Zoro. The enemy pirates were arrogant enough, eager to raid for treasure and eliminate rivals, but their ship was small and their cannons were slow and not too well handled. Since they’d gotten this far, there were bound to be at least a few strong fighters on board. But Zoro doubted they were worth getting all intense about.

“Yeah, gotta agree with that,” said Franky, stepping close. “They look like small fry. Let Sunny take care of them, Strawhat. We can… I mean, I can fire our cannons at them…” his face turned pale and stricken as he said it, but he went on in a lower tone, “ …sure, I may miss some of the shots, but our cannons are fast and big enough that we oughta be able to sink them.”

“Or I can take care of them, once they get closer,” said Zoro. “I could use a work-out.” There was a chance they might have a decent swordsman on board.

“No, I could,” said Sanji, less the usual rivalry in his voice than a wish to finally release some tension, if Zoro was any judge. “I’ll do it now, if you’ll give me a hand and throw me there.”

Luffy hadn’t looked away. “No. You guys stay here. I’ll take care of it.” His voice was still low, as when facing the very gravest threats.

“But…” said Zoro, sword in mouth. These guys are probably just small fry, he wanted to say. Or at most medium-sized fry. They don’t deserve for you to get all worked up.

“Luffy…” Sanji said, looking as if he was thinking just the same.

 _“I said I’ll take care of it! Go take cover, all of you!”_ shouted Luffy in a voice that brooked no disobedience. Stunned, they’d had no choice to back away and do as he said, only watching as Luffy launched himself over to the enemy ship.

As they’d thought, it didn’t take him very long. But it wasn’t just Franky, Sanji and Zoro who felt vaguely humiliated – they all did. It didn’t feel like normal, like a division of labour, or their captain being impatient. No, it was as if he didn’t trust them anymore.

 

**

“Hey,” said Franky now, features grim and tight, “I’m on board with the idea that something’s got to be done. I don’t think I can stand this too much longer either. Tell you guys the truth, when I realised Strawhat wasn’t even rememberin’ Merry anymore I felt like I wanted to punch him in the gut, an’ if I thought that would have helped any I damn well would’ve.”

“And as for this latest thing he’s doing, the lying…” Franky ran his fingers through his hair, swore softly and slumped down, head bowed low. “Still,” he muttered hoarsely, “if we do this, don’t it come pretty close to mutiny? I mean, hell, might be worth it, but we’d better all know what we’re doing before we decide, is all I’m saying.”

“Technically, it’s not,” said Nami. “It wasn’t Luffy who said we should leave the island, and he’s never told me to sail to the one we’re travelling to either. In fact he’s never even asked me about it.” She frowned at that. Usually Luffy would bug her all the time about the next destination on the journey, even when she knew nothing about it. “It will only be mutiny if he orders us to turn around again, and we choose not to do so. If he even notices the change in course, that is.”

“But surely even Mr. Luffy – meaning no disrespect - will notice if the morning sun is in the opposite place from where it was yesterday,” said Brook.

“I’m not sure,” mumbled Chopper. “Usually of course he would, but the way he is nowadays… I think if he doesn’t want to notice, he won’t.”

“Sooner or later we’d still have to tell him, though,” Franky pointed out. “Once we’d be getting close to that place, he’d have to know what’s going on so he wouldn’t go blindly into danger.”

“We’ll have to make battle plans and he’ll have to know about them,” said Sanji. “Shit, he won’t like that at all, you saw how he was yesterday, stupid shitty idiot thinks we’re all little kids now or something… Uh, that is if we do decide to do this,” he added belatedly.

“It feels really weird to go behind his back like this,” said Chopper in a small voice.

“It should,” said Zoro heavily. “And Franky is right. What we’re doing now isn’t all that far from mutiny already, even if we’re only talking. If we do choose to go back, it could easily turn into a real one. And in that case, we should all be aware of what we’re doing. And be ready for the consequences.” He spoke the last line with particular emphasis, his expression growing even darker.

“You can’t seriously think…” said Nami, turning to stare at him. “The way he was yesterday –trying to protect all of us even from that small danger…! He’d never even think something like that.”

“It does seem unlikely,” Brook broke in, “but it’s still the case that as the captain, he’d have the right to take our heads for that. And we should all know that, beforehand.” He paused briefly, then went on, waving his swordcane with energy, “I’m not saying we should _let_ him while we’re still sailing back there, of course. That would defeat the whole purpose! But if this plan were to succeed, if he were to turn back to himself as we hope… well, then he’d have the full right to do so. And as honourable crewmates, it would be our duty to offer and to remind him.”

Zoro nodded. They were all quiet for a while.

“Well, that’s as may be,” said Robin finally. “I have to agree with Nami that it seems very psychologically unlikely that things would go that far, but it’s true that mutiny is not a casual affair. We might do well to plan for the contingency that we may need to restrain our captain.”

Chopper flinched and paled at that, and Brook clicked his fingerbones together as if to say “of course, how could I forget?” Sanji, Nami and Franky all looked grimmer and more tired at this thought, while Zoro’s expression remained unchanged.

“In any case,” she went on, “I’m not all that sure that going back would really be beneficial to Luffy. Maybe it’s just something we want to do for our _own_ sakes? Just because we find it hard to bear the way he is acting lately, does that really mean it’s wrong for him to do so?” She looked at all of them gravely. “Even this latest development, the lying, which I agree is painful to me as well – it may in fact be good for him. I’m not an expert on such matters, but it could well be a step on the way to healing. And…” She closed her eyes briefly before going on, “…I do think we’re fooling ourselves if we think it’s merely a case of getting the old Luffy back. Whatever happens from now on, he will not simply return to the way he was.”

*

Even as she speaks, Robin feels as if there’s a wall, a barrier between her and the rest of her crewmates. It’s the same barrier that used to be there all the time before Enies Lobby but has rarely, if ever, returned since then – until now. Although there’s less darkness in the barrier than in the old bad days, she finds it hard to reach out through its heavy veils, to read the others properly and to respond to them with conviction. As the barrier returns, so does Robin’s disgust with herself, her sense of being truly monstrous and alien to “real” human beings. These feelings are wrong and useless, she knows, but she can’t find the strength to push them away.

Have her connections to them been that vulnerable, all this time? That weak and fragile? She doesn’t want to believe that – yet with one anchor gone, and with Luffy’s mind clouded as he shields himself in lies, his heart no longer the great engine driving them all, it feels as if she’s already drifting away from them. The other anchors are intact, but she has trouble sensing them now.

 _Is that what it comes down to, then?_ she asks herself. Just because she can no longer follow the words of a longnosed young man in a mask who told her to trust in Luffy, she considers herself lost and adrift, unable to help her crewmates even though she can plainly see their suffering?

It seems that way.

She thinks about what Nami has said about the need for burial, for graves, funerals… Would she as a child have felt better if her mother, Saul, and everyone she grew up with had been properly buried after being killed? Robin pictures her younger self walking around a huge graveyard, and rather doubts it.

On the other hand, Brook had insisted on burying the bones of his old crew in West Blue soil from Thriller Bark, and had seemed to find solace in that. So perhaps Robin is wrong. Even about herself, she might be wrong. And she must admit part of her hopes for that.

*

“Maybe you’re right, Robin,” said Sanji in a low voice, not looking up at her. “Maybe it would just be selfish, but… All I know is I just can’t go on like this anymore!” His voice rose, one hand hitting the table. “I just… fucking… _can’t_! Even this, us sitting here all calm and reasonable, it…I can’t take it!”

He slammed his hand down again, then shook his head back and forth, red with anger. “Shit, the _main_ reason I’m so bloody mad at him” – he was standing up now, pointing in the direction of the boys’ cabin – “is that _I_ want to do what he’s doing! You don’t think _I_ don’t want to forget, too?!” He started to pace to and fro, conscious of their looks that were probably shocked or disapproving – or maybe they didn’t even expect anything else from him, considering how things were – and he knew he should be mature and calm down but that was impossible, this outburst had been building for far too long now.

“And I’m fucking mad at _him_ too!” he exploded. “What the hell kind of shitty thing is that to do, getting knocked off by a stupid fucking shitty _sea monster_ of all things? I can’t even remember what the last thing was I said to that idiot! This isn’t the way it should go, dammit! Damn fool shoulda outlived us all and gone home to marry his sweetheart and told people stories of us until dying of old age! Who the hell’s going to tell those stories now? Some shitty bloody strangers? I don’t wanna fucking let them!!”

He made himself stop as a wave of fatigue shot through him, then dropped down into his chair again, legs trembling. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” he muttered, his eyes closed, ashamed. He took a few deep breaths, then a few more, pushing back the tears. “…I’m really sorry,” he mumbled, kneading his forehead. “That was stupid. I know there’s no use in shouting. I guess…” He forced out a crooked smile. “…I guess I make a good example of what Nami-baby said before. Maybe the rest of you are strong enough to go on with things like this, but I sure as shit am not. I’m sorry,” he added one more time, ducking his head once more in apology.

Franky stood up, his face unreadable. “Excuse me, you guys. I gotta step outside for a minute.”

He left the galley. No-one seemed to know what to say, so they all waited for him. In a very short time, they heard a loud explosion that rocked the room slightly. A minute later, Franky came back, wiping dirt from his hands and sat down with a “well, that was that” kind of nod.

Chopper coughed, a small sound in the wide silence. “This is what I think,” he said, sitting up as upright as possible, his clear young voice small at first but rising in strength as he spoke. “I think if _he’d_ been here, if it had been someone else of us… he’d have wanted to go back. He would have been scared, I think, but he’d still insist that we should do it.

“Especially if going back would help Luffy. I even think he, he’d be pretty mad at us, if he were here. For not taking care of Luffy better, I mean. That’s what I wanted to say.” He nodded firmly, then sat back.

“You’re right about that,” said Zoro slowly, almost absently, “but even so…” Then he shook himself, “Hell with it. Yeah, I agree with Nami: we should go back. Planning for mutiny and deception feels like I’m betraying myself even more than him, but I’m damned if I know what else to do.” Zoro looked sickened yet determined, and grimmer than they’d ever seen him. He gave each of them a sharp, weighing look. “And it doesn’t look like the rest of you know, either. So I say we do this.”

“I agree, then,” said Robin in a low voice.

“Me, too,” muttered Sanji.

“To me as well, it does seem like the only way,” said Brook, nodding.

“Yeah, sure, let’s go for it,” said Franky. “Only, let’s make proper plans like Robin said. If we have to be mutineers, we better be good at it.”

Nami let out a long, long sigh, her fingers stopping their nervous movements. Her eyes sought out Chopper’s: he looked back at her earnestly, then smiled, just a tiny bit. A smile of complete and utter trust.

“Okay, then,” she said, standing up. “We turn around now, while he’s still asleep. And then, let’s plan this.”

The sun had set outside, and the sky was quickly growing darker, the stars coming out clear and bright. Franky went below deck, muttering about illumination. But Nami walked briskly towards the helm with her crewmates in tow, and only her fingertips were trembling.


	4. Night Thoughts

Absence, Chapter 4: Night thoughts

The skies had already turned dark when Brook climbed up the foremast with light steps. Waiting on the yardarm for Mr. Sanji to appear on the other side so that they could unfurl the main sail together, he was somewhat surprised to find himself whistling an old, half-forgotten ditty. The weather still held clear, as they had hoped: above them, the constellations of the night sky were shining brilliantly, certainly more than clear enough for a navigator as talented (and beautiful!) as Miss Nami. Moreover, after hours of calm they were finally picking up a fine, brisk wind that blew in just the right direction for their new regressive course, if Brook was any judge (and he rather thought he was!). All in all, the excellent weather conditions seemed an auspicious start for their new endeavour – even if no-one in the crew still appeared to be entirely certain they were truly doing the right thing.

The strong wind did come with the drawback of making conversations awkward, unfortunately. Bit of a pity, Brook felt; especially as the crew finally, after the big meeting, seemed more inclined to talk freely to each other. He’d have liked to at least indulge in some pleasant chit-chat as he worked, but, well, you couldn’t have everything, Brook supposed with a philosophical hum, climbing over to the main mast to help out Mr. Franky there.

After the three of them had finished putting up the sails together, Mr. Sanji and Mr. Franky descended to the deck again, quite obviously eager to look for new things to do there. Brook could for think of nothing he’d be able to help out with, so he opted to stay where he was for the nonce, ready for duty if called upon. He sat down on the roof of the crow’s nest and looked up at the stars, sometimes taking up the violin for a few strokes before putting it down beside him again.

Ghosts, Brook had always felt, were scary. He didn’t care for ghosts at all, gliding around being transparent and intangible, rattling chains and talking with hollow voices, hungry for life and sometimes eager to bring others into their graves, according to certain stories. Ghost stories had never failed to make Brook’s teeth chatter and his blood run cold, even now when he didn’t have any blood at all (yohohoho)! As far as Brook was concerned, ghosts were weird, creepy, restless, alien, invulnerable, terrifying creatures.

But the occasional sensation of a familiar presence, the sound of a dear old voice or two, the feel of a warm, unseen hand on his shoulder, hearing bodiless fingers pick out a dear melody on a cracked old bass… well, that wasn’t ghosts. It was _company_.

In his more lucid moments, during those long dark years, he had been willing to admit that all those sensations might be simply due to vivid memories and his own lonely imagination. But he had never been quite sure. And whenever he was particularly worried and uncertain about something, he’d be inclined to talk to his old crewmates as if they were still there in the flesh, able to listen and to offer him advice.

They were at rest, he fervently hoped, now that their bones were buried in West Blue soil on Thriller Bark. Except for the part of them still present inside his tone dial, they had surely all left in peace, trusting that Brook would be able to fulfil their promise through sailing with his new crew. And comforting though it would be to imagine their faces again, something held Brook back from doing so. It wouldn’t quite be right, he felt.

But not all his old comrades were buried there. And in this moment, after so many years, the memory of one who was not rose unbidden in his mind until he practically felt the other there beside him, maybe holding a tankard of rum up to the sky and humming softly.

“I wonder if this is right, Captain,” Brook said softly to Captain Yorki. “If we are doing the right thing or not.”

He got a peaceful, indulgent smile from the man who had left the Grand Line over fifty years ago in a very small and fragile ship, suffering from a deadly sickness.

“Even for pirates, that’s not always that easy to know,” Captain Yorki said in reply, or so Brook fancied he would, chuckling softly before drinking from his tankard. “You know that, Brook, you’ve been a captain yourself.”

Brook sighed, shifting his slight weight around. “I don’t think I was ever all that good at it, Mr. Yorki,” he confessed. “Or perhaps times were easier back then. The choices didn’t seem as hard.”

“Or maybe that’s just how you’d like to remember it,” said the Captain, crossing his legs and looking down at the deck. “Damn, but this is a great-looking ship. And those are all good kids you’re sailing with now.”

“Of course, of course,” mumbled Brook, the old pain there again as if it had never left. “But I don’t know… I wonder what _you_ would have done, Captain.”

“I don’t know if that’s the right question,” Captain Yorki said, inside the dark, echoing hollow of Brook’s head. “But if I’d be doing something like what that kid is doing, if I couldn’t really function like I should anymore… I’d like to think you guys would be trying to help me, would do what it takes to bring me back, rather than give up on me. I mean, you and I have met some crews where the captain was little more than a figurehead who spent most of his time drunk and ignored… And sure, they might survive on the seas for a while, but… I’d feel useless, that way. I’d wager this kid wouldn’t want that, either.”

“Ah… No, I don’t think that,” said Brook. He felt somewhat more at ease. “No, he wouldn’t want that at all,” he confirmed.

“And keep playing,” said his old captain’s voice. “You may be a Strawhat Pirate now, but you’re still a Rumba Pirate for all that. And we don’t stop the music for anything.”

“That’s true, Captain,” said Brook softly, and indeed his fingers were already handling the violin and the bow without him consciously deciding it. “That’s true. But I don’t know if I can find the right tunes…”

He said it too late – the presence was gone now, back into memories. Well, then. Brook looked back up at the stars. The wind paused, and in the lull he heard the voices of Mr. Sanji and Miss Nami coming up from below, as the cook kept asking for things to do and Miss Nami seemed to grow more and more exasperated.

“I wonder if I should tell them what I heard or not, back there,” Brook said, talking to himself alone now. The moment had somehow never seemed right, earlier in the council. And he couldn’t decide which one of his crewmates he should bother and possibly upset with the information – which was likely quite useless, anyway. It might well be best just to go on keeping it to himself.

He tucked the violin under his arm and started to gently skip down towards the deck. Quite possibly, a soothing melody or three was just what was needed down there.

 

*

After they’d turned the ship around and the sails were up to catch the breeze, and they had finished helping Franky set up the illumination, Zoro and Chopper hadn’t hung around for very long. It didn’t seem like Nami needed more help than she already had, what with Sanji and Robin keeping themselves by her side, and Franky and Brook rushing to and fro, full of energy. In fact, they’d hardly even noticed when swordsman and doctor left. But _some_ people needed to be responsible enough to get some rest.

Zoro supposed he couldn’t blame them for being eager to finally do something constructive (hopefully), but he hoped at least some of those bozos would remember to go to sleep before the end of the night. Otherwise he and Chopper would probably be the only ones awake tomorrow morning. Besides Luffy of course.

He walked the steps down to the lawn deck with deliberate softness, trying to mask the way he seemed so heavy and clumsy these days. Part of it came from a sense of constantly feeling weighed down by something like huge, heavy slabs of lead and iron. Constantly pressing down on him, those invisible weights made it hard to breathe at times, as if he were in a tough battle. Lying down at night, that sensation could be particularly strong.

But at the same time, he also had a feeling of being wrapped up in thick, heavy wadding; not comforting but isolating. He’d feel like he needed to force himself to do even simple tasks and say just a few words, as if movements and speech could hardly slip through the stuff. Sometimes he found himself amazed that his crewmates could even hear and respond to him, all bundled up as he felt.

And sometimes he wondered what it would be like to be even deeper cocooned into the heavy warm cloth; unreachable, untouchable. Like Luffy.

Chopper also softened his steps as they came near the door to the boys’ cabin, finally going to tip-toes. He breathed in deeply, then pushed the door open with exaggerated slowness. Zoro didn’t blame him, though he doubted it made any difference one way or the other. He’d lost track of how long it had been since Luffy had fallen asleep, unwittingly aided by heavy food and special lullabies. He might well sleep until morning, though he might also wake up before that easily enough.

They both stopped by his bunk, looking at their captain where he lay in his pyjamas like usual; listening to his steady, slow, regular breathing, punctuated now and then by rather gentle snoring. At one point one of his toes twitched, then stopped.

Normally it wouldn’t occur to Zoro to wonder about other people’s dreams. Every man had a right to his own privacy, and dreams were as private as you could think of. But these days… Zoro couldn’t help but wonder if Luffy’s denial held fast while he was dreaming. Or did bits and pieces of the truth reach him then, only for the curtain to fall down again every time he woke up? Either way, the sheer strength of that mental control was pretty damn impressive, for all that it was turned the wrong way around.

Robin’s words during the council came back to him. Maybe they really were doing this more for their sake than for Luffy’s… But he shook his head and slouched away to wash up and brush his teeth, Chopper following on his heels. They’d made their choice. And even though right now they didn’t know what they’d do once those walls finally came tumbling down – and they _would_ , they had to, one way or the other – well, that was just a bridge they’d have to build and cross once they got there.

He and Chopper changed into what passed for sleeping gear in the boys’ cabin (mostly older, more threadbare and dingier versions of what they wore during the day). Though still moving quietly and cautiously, Chopper was the faster of them, and had already been lying in his bunk for several minutes by the time Zoro pulled his old green t-shirt over his head. Chopper’s eyes were large and anxious as he stared up into the ceiling, obviously trying like hell to keep his composure.

“Well, g’night then,” mumbled Zoro as he turned out the lights and crept into his own bed.

“G’night…” answered Chopper in a small voice. They were both quiet for a few minutes. But sleep seemed more distant now than it had up on deck, the heavy weights pushing themselves down all the more on Zoro. For his part, Chopper was still breathing too quickly, too audibly, all hyped-up and nervous. He kept tossing and turning.

“I wish we could know... I wish we could just know a bit more of what will happen tomorrow,” whispered Chopper finally. “Just so we can be prepared for it! So we can _plan_.” His voice rose into a tone of anxious complaint.

“Whatever happens, happens,” said Zoro gruffly. “No use in thinking about it before the fact.”

“I – I know,” mumbled the reindeer, sighing deeply. “I _know_! But I just… well.” There was a quiet sniffle. “Never mind.” He moved in his bed again, making the hammock swing. Luffy’s soft snoring seemed to grow a bit stronger.

“I think you were right, Chopper,” Zoro made himself say into the darkness, despite the heavy, hard pressure on his chest. “At the council. What we’re doing now… it’s what Usopp would have wanted us to do. If it were someone else.”

Chopper lay still, his uneven breathing calming down somewhat, but still not ready for sleep yet.

“…But does that mean it’s the right thing to do?” he mumbled in a small voice.

Zoro was surprised. That was a pretty mature question. Not for the first time these days, he felt a mixture of distinct pride in his youngest crewmate on the one hand, and a sting of fierce sadness on the other.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe there isn’t a right thing. Only the least wrong thing. Maybe that’s all we’ve got.”

Chopper hm-ed in a thoughtful, assenting manner.

“Chopper,” Zoro found himself suddenly saying on impulse, “did you ever find out… back at Enies Lobby…”

“Huh? What?” Chopper’s voice rose and he turned in his bed again, towards Zoro.

Zoro had fallen silent again. What had made him say that? It was far too late in the night to go into that kind of stuff, and he didn’t even know what the point would be. Except that he might be the only one who remembered it now. And somehow that mattered.

“…Well…” he went on slowly, hesitantly, “…do you remember Luffy was fighting the strongest of those Government people, that bastard with the pigeon and the leopard zoan fruit?”

“Sure, I remember that!” Chopper sounded surprised. “I wouldn’t forget all that! Even though it seems like a long time ago now. But it was important, because we got Robin back! And that guy was pretty scary.”

Zoro nodded uselessly in the dark room. “Yeah. He was strong. I wouldn’t have stood a chance against him. Not back then. We’ve faced a lot worse since, but people like that you don’t forget in a hurry.”

“Luffy beat him, though,” said Chopper in a proud, satisfied tone.

“He did, yeah,” said Zoro slowly. “But there was a point where that guy – oh yeah, Rob Lucci, that’s the name, I forgot – must have knocked him down pretty hard so that he couldn’t get up. I was busy fighting, I didn’t see it, but then I saw Usopp turning around and looking back, and then…”

He paused: he’d been going to say, ‘and then he took the mask off’, but now he remembered who he was talking to. It wasn’t that he cared about keeping that silly secret any longer, but stopping to explain would just take too much time.

So he only went on, “…And then he went as far as he could on the bridge, to the place closest to, uh, that place where those two were…” It had been in the ruins of a smashed-up pillar, hadn’t it? Zoro frowned as he tried to recall the outlay of the Bridge of Hesitation – or what had remained of it, at that point – in his mind.

“Anyway… then he started to yell at Luffy from there. If he hadn’t done that, I’m pretty sure Lucci would have gone on to grab Robin and kill most, maybe all of us, I think.”

“I didn’t know that at all!” Chopper’s voice was pure round-eyed amazement.

“Yeah… he shouted some pretty good things, too, though I didn’t catch all of it. I was busy guarding his back, and I dunno if you remember but the battle noise right then was loud as hell.”

“I do remember that…” Chopper spoke slowly as well, now. “I couldn’t move at all, but I remember the noise, and the battle smells, and that the sky had gone all dark from smoke…”

“Right,” said Zoro, noticing there was only a slight tone of shame and regret in Chopper’s voice now, when recalling how incapacitated he’d been. Made sense – like the others, Chopper had seen many battles since Enies Lobby, and had like the rest of them become much stronger. “Franky was pretty close by there, but with all that noise he probably didn’t hear any of it. What he – what Usopp shouted.”

“B-but… but what did he say?” asked Chopper anxiously.

“Oh… stuff about how this wasn’t hell and Luffy should get up and finish the job, so we could all go home… And he should stop worrying people so much.” Zoro paused, putting a hand behind his head as he stared right up, at the ceiling he couldn’t see in the dark. His voice had grown hoarser. It was hard to find the right words, hard to try to reach out from the wadding to grope for them.

 _Am I telling it right?_ he suddenly wondered. _I didn’t just imagine that part about the worrying, did I? I know his voice dropped a lot at that point…_ No. No, he was right. That was how it was. He’d heard right.

He took a deep breath and went on, still speaking slowly and cautiously, “Though I think what worked the best was that he challenged the leopard guy at the same time. He said he was going to take him on, even called him names… You know, Lucci could probably have killed him in two seconds or less and I’m sure he knew that, but… well, that got Luffy up all right. And once he was up on his feet he managed to beat him.”

“Wow, really?! Is it really true?” squealed Chopper, and his voice sounded so much like when he listened to Usopp’s tales that Zoro couldn’t help but smile, briefly. There was something warm and wet behind his eyelids. He clenched his fists together and swallowed, pushing it away, because Chopper didn’t need to hear or scent that.

“Yeah,” he whispered softly. “It’s really true.” He felt something pierce him, sharply and deeply, like a master blade stabbing right through. But at the same time it also felt as if the mountain-heavy weights had grown just a tiny bit lighter.

*

Dropping off to Brook’s lullabies, Luffy had spent several hours in a deep, dreamless sleep. Gradually, he started to drift into dream territory now and then, then drifted out again. Those were very vague, formless, confusing dreams at first – too confusing to even try to make any sense of. There were tunnels that turned into jungles that turned into prisons; there were monsters that turned into clouds, oceans that became stony floors: that kind of thing. And always falling, falling, falling…

At some point he seemed to be in a garden of tangerine trees built for giants, where the tangerines were as big as Grandpa’s cannonballs and the trees were Oars-sized. A normal-sized squirrel told him this was just part of Impel Down these days, but that must be wrong since the garden looked really nice and Impel Down really wasn’t. Then there was shouting and a whirlpool and things that were bad to think about and he must have wound up somewhere else.

Later, or maybe earlier, he was floating through what looked like a desert, although it wasn’t hot but it was dry. There were people there, sitting all still and not wanting to move because they were too dried out and tired. They told him with weak voices that there was never any rain at all these days. Back in Sir Crocodile’s day, they claimed, there had been lots of rain, but some evil pirate had defeated him and since that day it had never rained again.

Luffy tried to tell them that they had it all wrong, that Crocodile had taken the rain away and that beating him had brought it back. He told them over and over that this weird desert must be just some odd corner of the country, and if they just moved over the hills they’d see there was rain all over the place these days. But they simply wouldn’t listen to him, they just stared into the air with blank dead eyes and kept mumbling the same things. Luffy thought he should start digging to find them some water, but the sand turned to quicksand and then it pulled him down and then he wound up somewhere else; drifting, tumbling, falling...

*

The sun wasn’t very high up and there was still dew in the grass, so it must be early in the morning. But it wasn’t dawn. The sun was yellow and warm and not red or pink at all. A faint breeze was blowing, but there wasn’t a single cloud in the deep blue sky. The air felt high and fresh and clear and full of excitement.

Luffy breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of the grass and the trees, of the earth and flowers and the salty smell of the sea. He was standing at the top of a green hill, looking down on his home village. It was Fuusha all right – there was Makino’s inn, there the grocer’s shop and the Mayor’s house – but there were more houses there than he remembered. Some of them he wasn’t sure who might live in them – and yet they looked very right, being there. There even seemed to be two inns, Makino’s and someone else’s, but that was okay too. It wasn’t wrong at all.

Off to one side, near where Luffy was standing, was a big white house with hedges and trees around it. It looked both richer and lonelier than the other houses. Beyond the village the sea lay waiting, glittering in the sunlight.

Luffy just _knew_ this was the start of a great day, a day of glorious and really cool adventure. He could just feel it. The air tingled with it.

It felt impossible to just walk down the slope so he started jogging, then broke into a run just because he liked to. There didn’t seem to be anyone out in the village yet. Probably everyone was staying in bed because it was a day of rest today or something. Those sleepyheads! Luffy toyed with the idea of shouting something just to get everyone up. It might be pretty fun to surprise them and then run away laughing. But he put it aside. Today was a day of adventures, not pranks. And in a way it felt cool to be the only one up and about.

He slowed down his steps, sauntering towards the tiny stone pier, then stopped before reaching it. It looked like there was a small dark spot there, right on the horizon… yup, so it was! It must be a ship of some kind, coming here!

So, the adventure was starting already! How about that? Luffy jumped with excitement, then squinted his eyes trying to see better. It was far too far away to see any details about the ship. He hoped it would come here soon.

Maybe it was Shanks and his men, coming back here to pick him up after all, saying how sorry they were they’d left him! …No, wait, that wasn’t right. Luffy frowned, tugging at his hat. He wasn’t a little kid anymore, and Shanks wouldn’t come back. He’d see him once he’d become Pirate King so he could give his hat back to him, as he’d promised. Not before then.

Well, maybe it was the Sunny, then? The other guys must have gotten lost somewhere forgetting where he was, but now they’d found him, so that was all right. Only… only…

Luffy blinked, then abruptly turned around, not looking at the ship anymore.

Suddenly he didn’t feel good about the ship that was coming, no matter who it was. There was a cold gaping feeling inside him, like a hole where the north wind blew through. What if… what if it was some kind of trick? Or, or maybe it was a ghost ship. What if it was something that looked like the Sunny and everyone seemed to be on board, only they couldn’t hear him and see him? Maybe they’d be transparent like ghosts. Or maybe he’d be the transparent one.

Or the ship might be an enemy ship, bearing some really bad news he didn’t care to hear about. Now all at once there seemed to be too many bad, wrong ships it could be and not enough right, good ones. But even if he wasn’t looking anymore he saw it in the corner of his eye, the dark shadow on the water, steadily coming closer.

He turned and ran, knowing he was trapped. He needed to get away, get out, out, OUT…

*

Gasping for breath, he sat up in his wooden bunk, then blinked a few confused moments before realising he was home. The morning light was coming through from under the doors leading out to lawn deck. He looked around quickly. Franky, Brook and Chopper were sleeping (and the extra bed was untouched as usual, but he didn't want to look at that one). Zoro’s bed was empty – probably doing some early training – and so was Sanji’s.

Good! Luffy scrambled into his clothes and ran out towards the galley. There seemed to be something odd with the sky but he had no time to investigate that now. The awful gaping hole inside was still there from the strange dream, and breakfast was the only thing he could think of to fill it with. Maybe it wouldn’t be enough but at least he had to try.


	5. Footsteps of the Past

Absence, Chapter 5: Footsteps of the past

 

Franky rubbed his bleary eyes and forced himself to put down his feet on the deck as he stumbled out of bed. He quickly glanced around, noting that some beds were empty and others weren’t, then stepped out onto the lawn deck and into the bright morning sun. Another fair day, as far as he could tell – there were some fluffy clouds far away, but they didn’t look too threatening. Still, Grand Line weather was treacherous, and Franky was no weather expert.

The weather expert was probably deeply asleep by now. Nami had seemed pretty damn wobbly already when Franky had turned in about four hours earlier. She’d insisted she would keep going until dawn, though, and had gone over again and again about exactly how the course should be held in relation to the sun’s position at different points during the morning.

Time to put that knowledge to use, then. Franky climbed the stairs leading to the helm from lawn deck, trying to ignore how heavy his feet felt. Maybe it was just lack of sleep and cola, but it definitely felt as if the bursts of energy he’d felt last night had run out. Sure, it still felt better than before, doing something that might just be right. But the numbness that had retreated last night was more or less back in place now.

 _Stop thinking. Just do._ Franky grabbed the helm. Let’s see, how was it now…?

He glanced at the clock beside him. You had to know pretty much what time of the day it was if you wanted to navigate by the sun, so last night, he’d taken the most accurate clock available on the ship from its place in the observatory, nailing it right next to the helm. Assuming the clock was in decent shape and still kept good time, the ship hadn’t drifted too much off course yet. Wouldn’t surprise Franky if the girls and Brook hadn’t gone to bed until right before he woke up. (Sanji had turned in at the same time as Franky.)

Franky pushed at the helm and felt Sunny turn below him. Then he just stood there for a while, listening to the ropes creaking, the waves splashing.

They’d finally started talking, yesterday, everyone but Luffy – and that was good, it needed doing. But the trouble with starting to talk about stuff was that it made you think more, too – made it harder to block things out.

 _So what do you think you’re doing, Franky-boy?_ asked a sardonic voice in the back of his head. _Why the hell do you think you’re all looking forward to this so much? What do you think you’ll expect to find on that island?_

“Shut up,” muttered Franky under his breath. “Leave it. Don’t wanna hear it.”

_Do you really think trying your best to break Strawhat down is doing him a favour?_

Franky just shook his head, then abruptly turned around and marched down the steps. Stupid self-critical thoughts trying to trip you up. He’d had enough of them…

_You do know what you’re really looking forward to, right? All of you. A place to get off the ship and safely go to pieces – yes, safely, despite enemies. To stop being so damn calm and reasonable._

Mechanically, he went up the steps to second deck towards the galley, trying hard not to listen, neither to the dry voice in his head nor to the sound-memories of clunky shoes coming up on the steps right behind him, of an eager, cheerful voice calling his name.

_“Hey Franky, what are you doing? What’s this called? How’s it work? Hey, I got an idea for something we could make, wanna hear it? Look at this! Pretty good, huh? ‘Course it is, I made it! …Hey, Franky, you okay? Did you ever hear about the time when I…”_

He clenched his fists hard enough for cybernetic nails to dig into the palm, looking around wildly around for something lying around loose that it would be okay to break, then fix later. But he couldn’t find anything. For so long now he'd had the persistent feeling that if he only turned around in exactly the right way, it wouldn’t be a memory any more, it would be real… he'd tried hard to push the feeling away, futile as it was; and yet he didn't really want it gone.

He stepped into the energy room and filled himself up with cola, but the physical sensation of nourishment and strength didn’t make any difference to his emotions. Already he missed the numbness. And that was a very unsuper way of thinking, he knew.

 _Or maybe that’s not it, either._ Yeah, now that he considered it – the fact that they were all going back, spirits lifted up, faces a lot lighter…

He stopped, freezing on the spot where he was. _It’s as if we think it won’t be real if we go back. As if Nami had been hallucinating. As if we could turn back time._

Franky felt as if he was drowning, head spinning, vertigo and nausea riding him in hot, powerful waves. He gasped for breath and had to grab the railing in order to steady himself, actually feeling close to fainting. No, no, no…

_…no, no… yes._

 

***

Breakfast, Franky discovered after he managed to get ahold of himself, enter the galley and sit down, turned to be a rather subdued affair. Not surprisingly, Nami, Robin and Brook were all sleeping in. Everyone else ate fairly quietly, trying not to watch Luffy too closely.

As for Strawhat, he was eating just as quickly and messily as usual, but he wasn’t talking much either. Franky found himself only putting up token protests at Luffy’s usual stealing from his plates, and noticed much the same behaviour in the others. Yeah, they were all feeling guilty enough to be nicer to their captain, he was guessing.

Franky had learned that you couldn’t really guess anything of Strawhat’s mood from mealtimes. No matter how grim or sad a situation might be, Luffy practically always ate, and ate a lot, usually getting happy at the mere sight of food. True, there had been a handful of occasions when Luffy’s good mood had seemed to evaporate as soon as he ran out of food, but before that he’d consume his meal just as vigorously as he normally did.

And yet… well, possibly it might just be Franky’s super-vivid imagination, but it seemed to him as if there was a particular franticness to Luffy’s eating today. He seemed to be even more ravenous than usual. There was a blank look in his eyes and a sense of being hunted in his movements, as if something else other than just hunger was driving him. If he’d already asked about the new course of the ship or the absent, sleeping crew members, Franky hadn’t caught it and was unable to guess. Well, no news was good news, he supposed.

Somehow he did wind up feeling just a bit better at the end of breakfast. Maybe it was due to the truly super qualities of Eyebrow-Bro’s cooking, or just seeing most of his crewmates again – sure, they were all tense, but at least they were tense together. And while Luffy’s demeanour was a bit unnerving, it was still a bit of relief from the forced bubbliness they’d seen all too much of lately.

Ever so slowly, Franky felt just a bit of last night’s good mood return, though more cautious and reined in than before. He shoved his latest forebodings away. They weren’t delusional, they weren’t. It _would_ get better. Yeah.

*

“Hey, Sanji, is Nami sick or something?”

Sanji took a deep breath – _here it comes_ – and a deep puff on his cigarette before he turned around to meet Luffy’s eyes in what he hoped was a calm, casual fashion. “Nah,” he said. “She’s sleeping in today ‘cause she stayed up late last night. She wanted to try sailing the ship at night.”

Luffy screwed up his eyes. “Really? Wow, why didn’t you wake me? I woulda wanted to do that, too!”

Sanji gave him a lopsided smile, leaning himself towards the outside wall of the galley from its starboard side, where the two of them were standing. “Well, she might do it again tonight, if – if she felt like it.” Better not mention the need for starlight yet, since Luffy might ask why you couldn’t just follow the log pose. “You can always stay up and help if you want.”

“That’s great!” Luffy grinned. “I’m the best night-sailor around, after all, so you’d definitely need me! I’ve sailed at night sooo many times, I can do it with my eyes closed!”

Sanji twitched, his smile turning wooden. “Okay, good, then,” he managed to mumble, then inhaled too deeply and started coughing. Luffy looked relieved as he perched himself on the railing.

“But…” Luffy was frowning again, “if she’s not sick… maybe there’s something wrong with the log pose? Or – or, wait! Sanji, are there islands that can move around?”

Sanji raised his eyebrow. “Move around? Why?”

Luffy pointed up towards the sky. “The sky’s all weird, right? The sun’s in the wrong place! So we’ve turned around! …You know, if the island we’re going to is moving around, that would be pretty cool,” he added seriously.

“I’ve never heard of real islands that can move,” said Sanji. “Not on the Blue Sea,” he amended after a moment’s pause. Skypiea with its Upper Yard was different, drifting to and fro wherever the Whitewhite Sea took it. “Thriller Bark was really a very big ship, not an island. But on the Grand Line… who knows? Maybe there is one.” Well, that was misleading, but not actually lying.

“Oh. Okay.” Luffy looked like he wanted to say something more, but then just nodded and slid down from the railing, sitting down crosslegged. Sanji sat down on deck as well, where the sun had warmed the planks up quite nicely for hours. He leaned against the wall to the galley, lit up a new cigarette and started smoking it slowly, closing his eyes.

“I had a real weird dream last night,” Luffy said slowly. Sanji opened his eyes, surprised. That wasn’t the kind of remark Luffy would usually make.

“Yeah?” he said in a mildly curious tone. Luffy was frowning now, looking puzzled as he crossed his arms and looked down at the floor.

“Yep! A real weird and stupid one!” Then he looked up at Sanji, determined, “But I’m not going to run away from it again! Next time I dream something like that, I’ll just _make_ it so it’s the right ship.” He nodded firmly, then uncrossed his arms again and lay himself down on his back on the deck.

“Uh… okay.” Sanji had nothing to add to that.

Luffy didn’t say anything else either. He looked up at the deep blue sky and the few small clouds drifting through it, a faraway look on his face. Slowly, he brought one hand up and moved it in small circles on his chest, his fingers rubbing gently, as if there was something there that chafed him.

After a few quiet minutes, Sanji found himself saying out of nowhere, “Hey, Luffy… do you remember…” – he noticed Luffy stiffening at that, ever so slightly, and quickly continued – “do you remember back at the shitty restaurant when you wanted me to join and at first I didn’t want to?”

This wasn’t something he’d planned on saying at all, but that old memory had just turned up in his head. It occurred to him that since the memory had nothing to do with Usopp maybe Luffy wouldn’t think to defend himself from it.

Luffy was quiet for a few moments, still staring up, then nodded. “Uh-huh! Yep, I remember that! You were being stupid!”

“Hey, I don’t need to hear that shit from you,” drawled Sanji in mock anger. “But,” he said more seriously again – and it felt just slightly odd, that he was able to talk so easily about this, which he normally never did – “do you remember why I said I didn’t want to, even though I kinda did? ‘Cause of, you know, being indebted to the shitty old man and all.” He blew out a bunch of smoke rings and glanced over at Luffy again. “Remember that?”

Luffy didn’t move his head to meet Sanji’s gaze, and he didn’t say anything either. He kept looking up into the sky, one arm holding the other; then nodded.

Sanji went on in a rather low voice, “And then during the battle, when I couldn’t fight ‘cause the shitty old man had a gun to his head and I couldn’t stop standing up, either – you were yelling to me that I wouldn’t repay any debt through dying. That he didn’t save me so I could go die – that doing that would be shitty of me, or something like that. Anyway… you know, I was thinking something. You could have just told me to forget about all that, you know.”

Luffy rolled over and sat up, frowning in puzzlement and maybe also reproach. “Huh? Why would I do that?”

“Only makes sense, doesn’t it?” Sanji tilted his head to one side in a would-be persuasive manner. “To forget what he did for me as if it never happened. Then I wouldn’t have had any reason to stay, either. I’d be able to go with you without even thinking about it.”

“Hey! That’s all wrong!” Luffy looked pretty worked up, now. “That restaurant guy lost his leg for you so you wouldn’t starve! You – you can’t forget that, Sanji! Not ever!!”

Sanji gave him a flat, level look. “But I might feel better, if I did. Hell, could be the shitty old man would even feel better if I did. Wouldn’t have had to look at me going about all moping and shit.”

“No, no, no! No way!” Luffy was smacking his palm into the deck loudly, shaking his head wildly to and fro. “That’s all wrong! If you do that, then, then it would be like if I forgot when Shanks lost his arm! And I don’t want to forget that! I _can’t_ forget that, it would be – it would be all wrong if I did!”

Sanji waved one hand placatingly, “Look, calm down, okay? I was only – wait, what?” He dropped his cigarette, picked it up and stared back at Luffy, nearly matching Luffy’s intensity. “What was that – you mean Redhair Shanks? He lost an arm?”

Luffy nodded, hugging himself and sitting back slightly. “Uh-huh! When I was a kid and was drowning.” He drew in a breath. “There was a sea monster there that attacked me,” he said, more calmly. “But Shanks jumped in and saved me, and then it bit off his arm.”

“Shit – !” Sanji whispered. “You’re not kidding me?” Luffy shook his head, looking very serious. “So you’re saying – you’re saying Redhair Shanks, one of the four Emperors of the Sea, lost his arm to save you? Shit, no wonder you defended him against your grandpa!”

“Yeah,” said Luffy, a lot calmer now. “That’s when I decided I’d be King of the Pirates one day. And he left his hat to me when I told him so. So that I’d give it back to him one day after I’d made it happen.”

“Oh,” said Sanji quietly. “So that’s why you were so mad, back then at the restaurant.”

Luffy only nodded, then went on, “And that’s why I have to follow my dream no matter what. He - he didn’t lose his arm so I could just get stupid and stop!” He looked absolutely convinced of what he was saying, yet now he was trembling, too, as he kept staring at Sanji with wide eyes. His fingers were making small rubbing circles over his chest, again.

Sanji couldn’t stop staring. How the hell could it be that _now_ Luffy suddenly seemed almost closer than ever, while at the same time he was still so goddamn distant? How did he do it? He wanted to reach out to him, but he didn’t know what he’d do, then. What he’d say. It didn’t seem safe. And Luffy might push him away.

Then Sanji started violently: “Wait a minute!” he exclaimed. “Redhair Shanks lost his arm when you were little? I didn’t know that! And then he went on to become one of the four Emperors? But then – then…” He all but shouted, “…Then what the hell did the old man think he was doing, giving up his dream like that? He could have sailed back into the Grand Line with just one leg, damnit!” Wait… this was a complete side-track, not something he should go on about right now… _Except we’re all crippled now…_

Luffy just shrugged, a good deal less intense than before. “I guess he didn’t want it bad enough. Maybe he liked the restaurant better.”

“Yeah, right,” muttered Sanji. “More like he didn’t want to bring a ten-year-old brat into the Grand Line and couldn’t find a way to get rid of him.” Of course, that must be it. He took a deep puff of his cigarette, his thoughts sorted out again. The old guilt felt better than fresh, confused anger. Getting side-tracked like that was stupid.

“Anyway,” said Luffy, “it’s not like you can just tell people to forget and they’ll do it! That’s just stupid, too!” But he gave up his serious look, grinning widely. “Unless they’re hypnotised or something, yeah!”

“I guess,” mumbled Sanji, hugging his knees. “You’d know, right? You keep falling for stuff like that…”

“Or maybe if some girl you liked told you to forget it, you would!” said Luffy, giving Sanji a bright look. “That’s like getting hypnotised for you! But I don’t think so, ‘cause Restaurant-guy is great! And his moustaches are really cool!”

Sanji gave him a quirky, helpless smile, at the same time wanting to ruffle his captain’s hair and kick him to the other end of the ship. Well… Luffy’s walls still held, as far as he could see. He doubted he’d even sown any seeds of doubt. But it had been worth a try.

“But… that weird girl with the paint…” said Luffy now, screwing up his face in thought and craning his neck waaaay to the side in the process. “She could do something like that, I bet.”

“Huh?”

“Back on that cool jungle island with the giants and dinosaurs! Geez, don’t you remember, Sanji?” He looked reproachful now. “She was with that Candle-Fruit Three guy with a three on his head! I met him in Impel Down later!”

“Oh… yeah.” Sanji finally leaned back again, looking up into the sky. “On Little Garden, you mean. I wasn’t in that fight, idiot. I’d been off hunting and didn’t know where you guys were… wound up talking to Crocodile on a Dendenmushi and finding an Eternal Pose instead.” He’d heard accounts of the battle later, but he couldn’t remember anything about some enemy girl hypnotist. Mostly he’d felt horror at the thought of Nami and Vivi nearly becoming wax statues (and Mosshead too, he supposed), relief that they were actually okay, and self-reproach at having been absent.

“Oh… oh, yeah! Right! It was just me and Karoo against all of them! Man, that wasn’t easy! And that girl had weird powers, she could use paint to make you stop saving people or to make you have a picnic and stuff!”

“Just you and Karoo, right?” mumbled Sanji, feeling that now-familiar sickness again. He knew _that_ wasn’t true, at least. That part, he’d heard a lot about afterwards. Confirmed by reliable witnesses, too.

“Yeah… Uh huh…” Luffy looked off to one side, drumming his fingers on the deck. The faraway look in his eyes from before was back.

Sanji swallowed, but made his face expressionless, his voice level and calm when he next spoke, barely glancing at Luffy. “How did you win that one, anyway?”

“Oh, I set the whole waxy candle thing on fire! With help from Karoo, ‘cause he put rope all over the place and then I lit it. It was my… my special rope…” Luffy slowed down, looking uncertain as he spoke, “…’cause I’d put oil on it, from…”

“From what?” Sanji’s voice was deliberately casual, hardly curious at all.

“From my bag, of course… Hey! Sanji!” Luffy looked urgent, all of a sudden. “Where’s my bag?”

“Your… what.” Sanji felt his face go pale, his body turning entirely still, momentarily forgetting to breathe. “Bag. What?” he managed to get out.

“Yeah, you know! This big” – Luffy gestured with his hand – “and it’s red, with a strap and stuff, and it’s got all these neat things in it, like… like oil, and ammunition, and seeds, and all – all kinds of cool things…”

Sanji breathed in deeply, then slowly let the air out. This was good, he tried to tell himself. It was coming back. That had to be what it meant, right? It didn’t _feel_ good, but…

“But…” he said very gently, “you fight with your hands and feet, Luffy. What do you want ammunition for?”

“Uh…” Luffy looked really confused now, staring at Sanji, then turned to look around him where they were sitting. “But… but it’s neat, and… it’s my bag!” he insisted, looking at Sanji pleadingly. “I _know_ I had one!”

Sanji sighed, giving up. “Okay, okay,” he said. “I know the one you mean. Sorry, Luffy. We lost it back on that last island.”

“We did? Oh. I didn’t know that.” Luffy blinked, then abruptly stood up, frowning again. “Oh. That’s no good,” he mumbled. Sanji held his breath. In a second Luffy might so very easily follow this up with something like “We can’t go back there”, meaning they were officially mutinying.

But Luffy didn’t say that. Instead, he just pushed his hat further down and slowly started to wander away, looking more puzzled than anything else.

A reprieve again, then. Sanji stubbed out his cigarette and threw it into the water, then got up and went back to the galley. The door to the girls’ cabin had moved a bit, just now, and he wanted to have their late breakfast ready and waiting.

Not long ago, he wouldn’t even have considered troubling Nami-baby and Robin-honey with something like an account of this conversation. But it was all different now – _all broken,_ his inner voice said, _all smashed up and falling apart –_ and if they were ever to get out of this desolate wilderness, they had to talk to each other. Keeping heavy secrets wasn’t going to cut it any more.

He also knew they were strong enough, even as he couldn't help always wanting to shield and protect them anyway. They’d probably just worry more, if he didn’t tell them. At least, Nami-baby would…

Besides, their intelligence and insight were sorely needed. And hopefully they might not hold it too much against him, if he were weak enough to lean on their support, for just an instant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: I've just discovered an error in this chapter in the scene between Luffy and Sanji. When re-reading One Piece volume 52, I noticed that in chapter 504, Silvers Rayleigh mentions that Shanks lost an arm 10 years ago and that it had something to do with Luffy. Sanji was present and would have heard that, and he doesn't seem the type to just forget intriguing facts like that, normally. So it’s not very logical that he’s so surprised here.
> 
> I was considering inserting a mental remark of Sanji's, something to the effect of, "Now that he thought about it, hadn't Silvers Rayleigh hinted at something like that, back when they first met him? Somehow, Sanji had managed to utterly forget about it until now - well, it was true they'd all been busy with other matters shortly thereafter..."  
> But in the end, I felt it would be a bit too blatantly obvious. So I’ll just cop to having goofed and hope for my readers' forebearance. Maybe we could say that Sanji really was less attentive or more forgetful than usual that day…? ;)


	6. An Unexpected Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I stubbornly hold onto an alternative spelling of Zoro’s surname from the Swedish manga translation; I know it's not the official romanisation, but given that it often sounds like that ("Lolonoa") in the anime, I don't see why I would have to change.

Absence, Chapter 6: An Unexpected Encounter

The storm hit them late in the small hours.

It did not come unexpected. Nami had sensed the incoming shift in the wind before sunset, although it had still been much too early to tell how strong the winds would become, or at what time it would reach them. To be on the safe side, she'd told everyone to pick up anything lying loose on deck anyway. They also covered Chopper's medicinal plants and Robin's flowerbed, tied up the swing on lawn deck, and secured each and every hatch.

But even after all their preparations, the arrival of the storm was still a surprise. Robin and Brook had been the first to realise it was there, and had raised the alarm for everyone, awake or asleep. Up until then the night had been quiet, devoid of events. Luffy had helped arranging the sails for night sailing and trying to watch out for reefs. He’d seemed pretty cheerful about it, smiling as he watched the bright lanterns that illuminated the ship at night, and their reflections in the dark water. The crew had watched him half-smiling, half guiltily, and more than one of them had sighed in relief when their captain dropped off around midnight.

He still hadn’t asked Nami or anyone else about the current direction of the ship. During the day before, he’d been a lot more subdued than normal after his talk with Sanji. He’d helped with picking things up on deck and had talked a bit while doing so, but he’d kept the chatting down both in quantity and volume. He didn’t show as much zeal trying to cheer everyone up, either, though he still made efforts of the kind.

Occasionally Luffy had given Nami looks that varied from blankness to half-annoyed puzzlement to a weighing, considering thoughtfulness. A few times he had seemed on the verge of saying something to her, but then didn’t.

This hesitancy wasn’t much like Luffy, the crew felt. It was more like… someone else.

For Nami’s part, the tension kept gnawing on her, stronger as the day wore on; until part of her just wanted to turn around and shout out the truth to him. _Just get it out, get it over with…_ Only it wouldn’t be over at all, of course. And mostly she still preferred to postpone the inevitable, wanting to get as close to their goal as she could before he found out.

But right now, there was no time to think much about that, as Sunny was tossed from one gigantic wave to another, the deck slanting dangerously close to the roiling water, its Adam wood creaking under the sea’s merciless assault but holding fast so far, not letting in leaks in the hold. Waves came crashing in on the lawn deck, though, submerging the grass and making the crew trip and splash as they passed it, some of the water trickling down into the machinery. Franky spent a lot of the time working with emergency patch-ups as new waves would come pouring over him, but not everything could be fixed right away, and the steering mechanisms became more erratic as a result.

Nami clung to the railing and more climbed than walked around the ship, dressed in her yellow raincoat and sou’wester and shouting orders as loud as she could, pointing and gesturing to her crewmates to get the meaning across when the winds bore away her words.

And even though in the back of her head she knew full well this was setting them back, that it would probably take them days just to get back on the right track – well, that awareness stayed right there, in the back. The forefront of her mind was focused on the here and now, filled up with danger and teamwork and taking care of the Sunny. It was tough and strenuous and dangerous – and exhilarating. Not in the least because Luffy was part of it too, woken by the alarm like the others who had been asleep, working along with the rest of them just like normal.

Eventually the winds decreased in strength. The waves calmed down and the tang of the air shifted.

Not a minute too soon, either. _More of this and I’d have passed out,_ thought Nami tiredly, panting heavily and leaning on her ClimaTact to gather strength – she’d whipped it out half an hour ago to help take care of the sudden arrival of a pack of Sea Monkeys riding the waves, and it had been a lot of work.

Reason told her she’d gone through worse and still managed to keep fighting, but that wasn’t what her aching body was saying.

“We out of danger now?” That was Zoro – she hadn’t noticed him being close to her, but there he was. “Or just a lull?” he added, looking up at the sky. Nami looked up too. There was no morning blue sky to be seen, but the clouds weren’t stormily gray anymore, and it was definitely daylight. She sniffed the air once more.

“It’s over,” she said with certainty. Then she raised her voice and shouted, “All right, everyone! We’re through – storm’s over!”

There were various expressions of relief from the crew at that, most of them fairly low-key and tired, from Zoro’s simple “Good” to Brook’s “Most delighted to hear it, Miss Nami; I do believe I’ll go get some sleep now”. Robin just sprouted a hand right in front of Nami with her thumb up, the rest of her not visible from where Nami was standing. Luffy smiled at her widely from atop the second yardarm and didn’t say anything, at first. But after the others made their replies, he got a confused, waiting expression on his face, and then finally replied, “All right! Great work, Nami!” a lot louder.

That didn’t sound like Luffy. Nami flinched, almost stumbling on the steps up to the galley where Sanji had another pot of coffee ready. She only nodded and didn’t look back up at her captain, instead picking up her steps and fleeing into the warm galley.

*

“…Nami, do you… do you believe in ghosts?” Chopper had asked her the day before, during a quiet moment. He’d looked very uncertain and hesitant as he’d said it, maybe even ashamed, twiddling his hooves and staring down at the deck.

 

Nami had glanced at him and said, "You don’t mean like in Thriller Bark, right?” Chopper shook his head and started to say something, but she interrupted, "You mean real ghosts.”

Chopper had nodded. Nami had put her book away and also looked down at the deck. “I’m… not sure,” she’d said slowly. “It depends, I guess. The kind… There may well be restless spirits around, I think that makes sense. But… I’d rather believe there are other kinds of ghosts, only…” she swallowed, drawing invisible islands with her toes, “only I guess it’s selfish, thinking that. But sometimes…” She heard herself talking and stopped, abruptly. What the hell was she doing now? She really didn’t want to tell that to Chopper.

“Sometimes what?” Chopper had asked her, looking at her with wide eyes that were blinking rapidly.

“Never mind,” she’d mumbled, turning her head away. Then she’d made up an excuse about needing to look at her tangerine trees before the storm hit – which was true, but there was no reason that couldn’t have waited, or Chopper couldn’t have followed her. But he’d taken the hint and stayed behind.

The preparations for night sailing and the oncoming storm had served to keep the cold feeling in her stomach at bay right then, but now it returned with the memory. Sitting in the warm galley, drinking hot coffee and eating sizzling hot eggs and bacon, Nami shivered and closed her eyes.

 _Sometimes I get the feeling he’s right by us but_ outside _, in a terrible cold, and that he’d like to come closer only we’re not letting him in. Because we don’t know how to._

There was nothing about that thought that didn’t hurt, so she wanted to keep it away from her youngest crewmate, if she could.

*

After breakfast, about half the crew stumbled off to bed again, wisely catching up on their sleep. By rights, Nami should have been among ,but she felt too restless, and breakfast had bucked her up from the weariness earlier. It seemed she really needed less and less sleep the longer she sailed on the Grand Line. Plus, it had been awhile since her stamina had been really tested, so maybe she now had a good reserve to draw on, she pondered as she munched on her last rice ball.

She smiled over at Sanji, who had finally fallen asleep at the table, head buried in his arms. Sometimes it was really very hard to resist mussing up his hair and kiss him on the cheek. But there was always the danger of him waking up and going nuts over it.

A brown eye appeared out of nowhere on her cup of coffee, then a mouth formed and said, in Robin’s quiet voice, “Nami. I’ve spotted a small islet at two o’clock at some distance, but there’s a ship anchored right next to it. I’m not sure if we should raise the alarm and wake everyone or not. It might be just a wreck, but I think I saw movement.”

Nami rose and opened her mouth to say she’d go check it out, then realised there was no Robin-ear to hear her answer, so she just grabbed her ClimaTact and hurried out of there and out on deck. She spied Franky by the helm, scratching his head and frowning as he stared off across the water on the starboard side. Robin had climbed down from the crow’s nest and was standing close by, looking intently in the same direction. When Nami arrived, she handed over the telescope to her.

Evidently Robin had only told the ones who were awake right now. Well, the rest of the crew could be roused very quickly if need be, and Robin and Franky were strong enough to handle the first strike of most dangers.

Not that Nami could discern any real danger as of yet. As Robin had said, there was a small, rocky islet off to starboard about half a mile away. Seen through the telescope, it seemed to be very very oblong, maybe a hundred metres long but only about twenty metres across at the narrowest place. There were outcrops and crevices, which meant there was a good chance at finding rain water. All in all, it seemed an excellent place to anchor at while they waited for the clouds to go away so she could find the right course again. Except, as Robin had pointed out, they hadn’t been the first to find it.

 

“Huh,” she said. “That’s a pretty small boat. Well,” she admitted, “it looks longer than Merry was, but it’s built lower… Seems low in the water, too.” Merry had been small but she was built to sway and roll and ride on the waves without going over, whereas this ship …frankly, it looked more like a river barge than anything else. So what the hell was it doing on the Grand Line?

“Yes, and only one mast, too,” Robin pointed out, “which seems quite badly broken up by the storm. So does the rest of the ship.” Which wasn’t surprising at all, thought Nami: it was more surprising that a ship like that was sailing alone on the Grand Line in the first place.

“And there’s definitely people on it,” Nami said, for those small, occasionally moving figures she saw through the telescope had to be human. Or human-ish, anyway, she amended silently, remembering some of the creatures they’d met. “On land, too.” Some of them were moving about on the rocky islet, while others were sitting still. Maybe fishing? And most likely pointing at the Sunny and wondering about the Strawhats, although the ship and the islet were much too far still for Nami to see that kind of detail.

Franky snapped his fingers impatiently. “Hey, Nami-sis, can I use the telescope for a sec? Think I know what that is, but I want a closer look at it…”

Nami shrugged and handed the telescope over, moving to take Franky’s place at the helm at the same time. Franky went over to the railing and gazed over at the rock and the strange ship for a long moment. Then he lowered the telescope, whistling thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I’ve seen those around a few times,” he said. “They’re only used in convoys and stuff, in the middle of a whole bunch of ships protecting them from the worst of the winds and the waves. Normally at open sea, I guess they’re just extra supply ships, maybe used for fishing too. And in rough weather they get chained to a big ship at several points, and everyone who was on it leaves.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard of them before,” said Robin neutrally. “They don’t seem very useful.”

“Yeeah, they’re pretty pointless, really,” Franky agreed, scratching his stomach. “Not much use in sea battles, that’s for sure – can’t even handle the recoil, plus that close to the water is a lousy place to shoot from. Basically it’s just a big rowboat. The only real point to them is they can put a lot of people ashore pretty fast. Better than normal, smaller boats that way – they’re already in the water and don’t have to be lowered down, plus of course more people to row it makes it faster, too. They’re called ‘bagglers’, I think… or ‘gin-rowers’.”

“All right… Listen, guys, I’ll just make a small adjustment to starboard now,” Nami announced, and did so. “Just so we won’t sail away from the rock while figuring out what to do.”

“I see,” said Robin, gently taking back the telescope from Franky. “Am I wrong, or would this type of vessel be mostly used by Marines?”

Franky nodded. “You got it, babe. Right as usual.” He scratched the back of his head with a considering look, adding, “I mean, f’r all I know some bigshot pirate might use them, too, so they can get to their plunder as soon as possible… but I never saw or heard of it. Figure it’d be too much trouble for most pirates.”

“Damn,” muttered Nami. “And of course, the sail’s furled up so we can’t see if there’s a seagull on it or not… I couldn’t see any flag before, Robin – can you?”

Robin shook her head. “I see no flags. They _might_ be dressed in Marine uniforms,” she said cautiously, “but it’s still too far to see for certain.” She looked over at the other two. “If they are Marines, I suppose the readiest explanation is that they’ve been swept away from the rest of the convoy by the storm.”

“Hm,” said Nami pensively. “That could be bad news for us, if the other ships turn up looking for this one.”

“But like I said, nobody stays on a baggler in a storm,” Franky pointed out. Then he shrugged and made a wide, sweeping gesture pointing at the horizon all around them. “Anyway, ‘s’ not like there’s any other Marine ships around _now_ , right? I say we make anchor here. I mean, if we saw another rock around anyplace then fair enough, let those poor bastards have this one, but we don’t, do we?”

“True enough,” said Robin. “I advise the same. There seems no reason why we should have to turn away in this instance.” She lowered the telescope. “There can’t be all that many of them. I say around forty, maybe fifty at the most.

Nami sighed. “You guys make sense,” she admitted. “All right, then…” She paused, hearing a door open onto the lawn deck below, and a distinctive yawn. She turned around, brightening. “Hey, Zoro! Great, you’re up! Look, we’re thinking of anchoring over there…”

Zoro glanced over at the islet while she finished explaining the situation. He nodded. “Mm-hmm,” he mumbled, then sat down under the tree and started to polish his swords without a second look.

No matter. Nami already felt a lot better. The one possibly dangerous factor right now was those people on the boat. If they happened to be stronger than their numbers indicated, maybe even with a Devil Fruit user among them, it was nice to have the second strongest Strawhat up and about already.

Franky took back the helm, making straight for the islet. Nami stayed by the railing with Robin, who passed the telescope to her as they came closer.

The shouts from the other ship, the baggler or gin-rower or whatever it was, stopped as Thousand Sunny approached. Nami began to get a better look at the people onboard. They’d huddled together now and seemed to be having an agitated discussion.

“That… that probably _is_ Marine uniforms,” she muttered. “Looks more like that than anything else..:” But few of them wore the Marine hat, apparently preferring to tie rags around their heads. The clothes seemed as ragged, torn and ripped up as those of bandits down on their luck, splints everywhere. Nobody wore the Marine neckerchief around their neck, though some seemed to use it for slings. Of course, a strong storm would knock people around a lot, particularly in a small boat, but…

“Those guys have been in battle,” said Nami slowly. It wasn’t just all the bloody patches on bandages and clothes. It was something in the way the crewmen stood and moved, and what she’d started to catch of their faces, as the Strawhats drew nearer. “A hard one.”

“I see few seagulls on the backs of their shirts,” said Robin tightly. “I think they may have been ripped off on purpose.”

Nami glanced at her. Robin’s eyes were closed, so she must be using extra eyes right now. There was a drop of sweat on her forehead. Nami blinked, then bent down and picked up the ClimaTact from where she’d dropped it by her feet.

“I see,” she mumbled, a tight knot in her stomach. “Anything else?”

Robin opened her regular eyes, but didn’t look at Nami, just kept staring across the waves. “I recognise at least two of them,” she said, her voice harder now, and clear enough for Franky and Zoro to hear her. “These men were on the island.”

 _“What?!”_ Nami let out in a shocked whisper.

Right then someone from the other boat yelled out in shock, “It really **is** them! I recognise ‘em too!!”

“I _told_ you there can’t be two ships like that!” someone else shouted, sounding angry and frightened, and a third, more frantic, “Oh fucking _**hell!!**_ It’s those bastards!!”

Nami heard the sound of footsteps below, and glanced down to see Zoro stepping up to the railing. He was holding an unsheathed Wadou, the sword he’d just been polishing.

She turned her gaze back towards the enemy vessel, her gaze narrowing, face setting in a hard mask. “All right,” she said tightly. “Keep going.”

Nobody on either side said anything else as Thousand Sunny slowly sailed the last remaining distance until the islet. The clanking sound as the anchor hit rock resounded in the deafening silence.

*

Robin heard the sound of the anchor and watched as Sunny dipped slowly back and forth only a few meters away from the rocky islet. Evidently there were no underwater peaks that reached higher than Sunny’s keel, at least not on this side. If the Strawhats wanted to disembark, they could simply leap down from there.

For now, Nami didn’t jump that far, only down to the lawn deck, where Zoro was already standing by the railing with an impassive look. He was holding that sword he liked the best, still unsheathed after its polishing, but he’d left the other two swords behind under the tree. Nami held her staff up high and put herself next to him, turning back towards the enemy. As for Robin, she stayed where she was up on third deck, and so did Franky.

She considered the situation. There were forty-four of the enemy that she could see, but seven of them were apparently too weak to stand, and two might be asleep or unconscious. Perhaps there were more, hidden under those hatches in the middle of their rowing deck, but she doubted there was truly room for people there.

She also noted that most of the Marines had regulation rifles and some wore pistols, but she had to wonder if their gunpowder would have kept dry in the storm. There were, however, plenty of swords around, some spears, clubs and daggers; and the odd jitte and scimitar. But there were also plenty of broken arms.

She felt no anger.

She was _aware_ of the existence of a great rage, just as she was also aware of trembling limbs, and sweat on her face and shoulders. But she did not _feel_ any of those things; it was as if they were somewhere outside her.

She only felt hard and sharp and cold.

Intellectually, Robin realised that these men were exceedingly unlikely to pose an actual threat to the crew. That knowledge did not remove any of the hard, cold feeling in her. Just because she couldn’t sense the anger didn’t mean she felt the slightest inclination towards mercy.

*

Before, when the Sunny had still been a fair distance away from the islet, some of the Marines had been walking around on land, a few of them making desultory attempts at fishing. Now, however, all but two of them had gone back to their ship, where they watched the Strawhats in tense silence, arms at the ready. The remaining two were standing in front of their ship, and due to how thin the strip of rock was here, they were quite close to the Sunny as well. Close enough to be in speaking rather than shouting distance, in fact.

Robin studied the two men detachedly. She did not remember them from the battle, which was hardly surprising given how large that force had been. They were both big and muscular, with one being taller and stringier, the other stockier and broader. The taller one had bushy black hair with the beginnings of sideburns and a small beard – or rather, one sideburn only, on his left side. On his right a big, ugly burn stretched from his ear down the side of his neck, disappearing under bandages around his shoulder and torso. His ragged, dirty shirt was open and nearly buttonless.

The stockier man had very wide shoulders and was practically bald, with what few hairs he had very light and wispy on his skull, though he did not look an old man. He had no shirt on at all – perhaps he’d torn it all up to bind wounds with, for he too, like most of them, had quite a few bandages. Like his comrade, he watched the pirates with a wary, closed hostility.

It was he who finally broke the silence.

“Strawhats,” he said in a hard voice. “Fancy meeting you here.” There was bitterness in his voice, and a certain dark restraint, but no humour. Above all, he sounded tired.

“And what might you be doing here?” said Nami coldly, no real question intonation in her voice. “Don’t think we don’t recognise you,” she added; Robin wondered for a moment if Nami might have met the bald man during the battle, then dismissed it as irrelevant.

“You could say we’re preparing to sell ourselves dearly,” said the tall man bleakly, answering in the other’s stead.

“In more ways than one,” added one of the men standing in the boat. Robin, glancing over there, noted it was one of those she had recognised earlier – a short man with a split nose and long arms, who’d tied his blue Marine neckerchief around his head. She vaguely remembered having used Ocho Fleurs Clutch on him, but that couldn’t have given him that head injury.

“Yeah? The hell are you doing on that thing out on open sea?” said Franky, glaring down on the Marines, face and voice more hostile than what he was saying. “Didja get swept away from the rest of the ships by the storm, or what?”

The two men on shore stared up at him, looking incredulous, even baffled.

“ _Other_ ships?” said the taller one. “You don’t think we’d be going around in a bloody _gin-rower_ if we had a choice, do you?”

“Baggler,” muttered his stocky comrade.

“Gin-rower,” repeated the taller one, keeping his eyes on Franky. “And there ain’t any other ships, pirate. There’s just us.”

“So _you_ say,” observed Robin.

“Well, if I was lying I’d have it the other way around, wouldn’t I?” retorted the taller man. “To make you think we’ve got back-up on the way.” His face twisted in a grimace. “As if anyone’d care what happened to us, even if we hadn’t…”  
.  
The stockier man spat on the ground. “Of course we bloody well knew it was practically suicide, setting out on something like this. We’re not _rookies_. But we all agreed beforehand that it was better than staying back there.”

“Yeah? Care to say why?” That was Zoro, speaking for the first time. His words weren’t particularly tense, and there was no demon burn in his eyes. But his body was a little too immobile, his face a mite too carefully neutral. The two men on the ground turned their gazes towards him, even warier now than before. As well they might be, thought Robin. Clearly these soldiers were no fools.

“Doesn’t take a genius to figure out, Lolonoa,” said the stocky man after a few seconds, his face even darker now. “We didn’t come there like normal Marines. It was a penal battalion. Sentenced for all kinds of reasons, not the least just pissing off some higher-up or other.”

“We know that already,” said Nami indifferently, spinning her weapon slowly in the air. “Your commander fairly bragged about it. Called it a suicide mission.”

“That at least he was fuckin’ right about, the bastard,” growled the stocky man. “Those guys even put fucking _slave collars_ on some of us, like on Corp– like on Doscaballos here!” He pointed to his taller comrade next to him. “To make sure we behaved, see? _Slave_ collars on _Marines_!” At this, there was an angry resentful murmur from the… the baggler, several of the men touching bandages around their necks and shoulders.

Robin raised an eyebrow, looking over at the taller man whose name might be Doscaballos. “Explosive ones, you mean? As on Sabaõdy Archipelago? And yet you’re still alive.” _Presently,_ her tone conveyed clearly.

Doscaballos gave her a defiant glare. “You think I’m making this up? As if I care what _you_ think, pirate.” Then he shrugged, and went on even so, “Most of them weren’t the exploding kind. They shocked you, if the brass wanted to hurt you, or if you tried taking it off.”

“Strong shocks, though,” interjected the short man with long arms on the baggler, talking loudly. He, too, shot angry looks Robin’s way, perhaps for her implying she didn’t quite believe his boss. “Enough to kill strong men at full effect,” he went on. “And we saw enough of that happen, back there.”

“Brass pretty much went crazy after the battle,” said the stocky man in a tired, heavy voice, still looking up at Zoro. “That’s what happened, Lolonoa. Not that I think you care. The deputy commander couldn’t handle having to step in when Strawhat took down the big guy. Musta realised he’d be left holding the bag after we couldn’t either capture or kill you guys, and that made him snap.”

Zoro’s eyes widened slightly, very briefly. He exchanged a look with Robin.

 _These people don’t even know,_ Robin thought distantly. She felt even colder and icier now. Her fingertips and her left foot felt numb. There was something off about her circulation. _They don’t even know._

Disguising her reaction, she turned back to the enemy. “I see,” she said coldly. “Your own officers turned on you after your mission had failed. How like the World Government.”

Doscaballos flinched, then stared back at her heavily, face darkening. _Criminal scum,_ she could read in his eyes, and she waited to hear him say as much, too. But then his closed his mouth, his expression calmer, wearier, broken. He looked away, muttering something she couldn’t catch.

“Yeah, let it go, Corporal – I mean, Doscaballos,” said the stocky man. “Like hell we’re going to stand up for those fuckin’ bastards anymore. They only want us dead now, anyway.” He looked up at the Strawhats again, anger and bitterness contorting his features. “But if you think we mutinied easily just ‘cause we were a penal battalion, well… I’m used to commanders that make bloody stupid decisions and let the other ranks suffer for it. But this time… we were still weak and bleeding after fighting you, and had only started patching each other up, when suddenly those fuckin’ collars went off all over the place and the top guy was yellin’ we should all just die like rats.”

Franky scowled. “Oh,” he muttered under his breath, so quiet only Robin could catch it. “ _That_ kind of officer.”

The stocky man didn’t notice or didn’t care. He just paused for breath and then went on, “Some decent officers stuck up for us and tried to stop him, but they got cut down or shot for their trouble, most o’ them. Captain Fredericks over there happened to survive.”

He nodded towards the baggler. One of them, with greying black hair, an atrocious felt hat and one arm in a sling, shook his head. Robin recognised him from the battle.

“Not a captain any more, Villa, remember?” he said in a tired, patient tone, as if this was hardly the first time he’d had to point this out. “Just call me Fredericks. I’m just as demoted and condemned as you are.”

The stocky man – Villa, apparently – shrugged at the ex-Captain. “Even so, that don’t mean I can’t show respect for someone who stood up for his platoon and lost his grade and damn near his life for it.” He’d half turned around towards his crewmate now, but Robin got the impression he was at least half speaking for the Strawhats’ benefit, that he wanted them to know they had a decent officer among them. As if that little fact could change anything.

“Way I see it, that makes you more of an officer than any of those bastard morons could be,” Villa added, to a general murmur of assent in his crew. Doscaballos only nodded, but it was a firm and definite motion, actually a bit reminiscent of Zoro.

“Exactly,” said the short man with long arms. “You stood up for us, Cap. We’re not gonna forget that.” He at least would have belonged to Fredericks’ platoon, Robin assumed, as they both had faced her in the fight. That made four deserters she could remember from the island. The rest were probably survivors from other units.

“Anyway...” Villa turned back to the pirates, looking mostly at Zoro. “We still didn’t do anything until they wanted to force some of us to count the others and kill every eighth man, no matter who it was. As if we’d _already_ rebelled. So we figured enough was enough and refused to do it.” He stopped talking abruptly, looking away. Though he seemed to struggle not to show anything, there were clear signs of pain and rage on his face.

“Then what happened?” asked Robin in a flat voice. She spoke more from a lifelong habit of collecting information wherever possible than out of true interest. The story so far hadn’t done anything for her, and her inexpressive face was no mask, now, but simply a reflection of the blank emptiness inside her. Her hands were still trembling with that same alien unfelt rage.

Villa, composed again, gave her a sharp look. “Don’t you look interested,” he said drily. “Though… why should you be? You’re the Demon of Ohara. Still…” He considered a moment, then muttered slowly, “…still, someone _ought_ to know this, even so.”

 _Let someone know what happened after we’re gone, even if it’s only our killers…_ Robin could follow that reasoning. She allowed him one nod.

Villa went on, fairly matter-of-fact, now. “Collars exploded, or doled out heavy shocks; everyone started shooting or slashing or running for cover… Many soldiers died pretty quickly.” Over on the baggler, the crew nodded, their faces darker and more distant while they listened.

“Some were just trampled,” said Villa. “Those who were able to jumped aboard a ship and lit out of there. At the same time, the seakings were going haywire as well.”

“That’s right,” said Doscaballos, taking over as Villa fell silent. He, too, seemed to make an effort to speak dispassionately. “Actually, they’d been doing that for a while,” he continued, “ever since you guys destroyed the commander’s whistle and killed their leader.”

He paused, then, his face briefly contorted in something like anger, or perhaps pain. He wasn’t looking at the pirates now, but off to the side. Lost in memories, perhaps – but _he_ wasn’t trembling, Robin noted.

Villa cleared his throat and said in a hoarse voice, “Yeah, and then eventually we realised most of the high command were already gone – once they realised the tide wasn’t turning their way, they’d grabbed the biggest, fastest ship and left. But,” he remarked bitterly, “not before trying to sink or set fire to what remained of our ships.”

He went on, more quietly, “So there we were, left in that blood-drenched place, surrounded by the corpses of our friends. Also, by then we’d found out some of those monsters were amphibious.”

“Huh?” said Franky. “Whaddya mean? Seakings that can breathe in air ‘n’ stuff?”

Doscaballos nodded darkly, without looking up. “And crawl up on land… They crawl slowly, but they’re still fast with their long necks and fangs and their slicing fins.” His voice sank even more as he added, “Not to mention there seemed to be something else around in that place…” Then he blinked, shook himself and schooled his features before meeting their gazes again.

“Hn, so,” he said. “No point hanging around on that island any longer than we’d have to. Sooner or later they’d send new troops to secure the place and shoot us all down, anyway.”

He and Villa, with some more interjections from their crew, went on to explain how their small group of survivors had taken the only functional vessel left, which happened to be the baggler (or gin-rower, as Doscaballos insisted on calling it), loaded it down with food and fresh water, and had only waited to make a funeral pyre for their fallen comrades before leaving. As they spoke, they seemed to alternate between growing yet more angry and bitter, and shying away from that, making efforts to sound cold and in control again.

Robin listened and heard every word, but in her mind she was far away now. This was… this was, in one way, not too unlike that moment when she’d stood at the balcony of the Tower of Justice, as that utter fool of a Cipher Pol boss had kept going on about the Buster Call and relished throwing her childhood trauma into her face. In another way, it was not like that at all, because then she’d been burning with a sickening mix of anger, fear and despair: but now she was only hard and cold.

But still... it had all came back to her, then, as she’d looked over the abyss and seen not her crewmates there but Ohara, burning; she’d heard the nightmarish sounds and smells from her memory, just as powerless remembering as she’d been when living through it. Until Luffy’s clear voice had broken through the spell, and the sight of a burning flag had outshone the fires in her head…

Of course these men before her were nothing like Spandam. They might well have enjoyed some vengeful satisfaction, if they had known why these pirates had it in for them. But they didn’t know. Yet their words, as they told their story, were similarly good at bringing back what had been buried. In her mind, the sights, sounds and smells of that terrible day and place were there with her again, as vivid as the worst of nightmares.

The place the Strawhats were now sailing back to. Perhaps they were all just insane.

The two leaders stopped talking, having nothing more to say. There was a long, thick silence.

“Well, isn’t that a sad story.” Nami’s voice rang out, cold and harsh. She stood even more ramrod straight than before. “Do you expect us to be moved by that? Oh, sure, you may only be hapless grunts… but are we supposed to believe you had any trouble ambushing us? That you minded being asked to attack infamous pirates?”

“Of course not,” said Robin. “Marines will fight pirates: it is only to be expected. We are enemies, after all.” She turned her head a little, glancing at her crewmates. “I am in no doubt as to what these people would do to us, if our positions of strength were reversed.”

“But we’re not Marines any longer,” said ex-Captain Fredericks. He spoke gently, almost conciliatory – he spoke as someone who’s lost all hope, and therefore can afford to be kind, thought Robin indifferently. “We don’t have to act that way now,” he added. “Neither do you.”

“Never mind that, Captain Fredericks,” said Villa roughly. This time, he didn’t turn around but kept his gaze steady on the Strawhats, his face pale and set, mouth twisted. “These guys ain’t gonna listen to something like that,” he growled.

Zoro looked at his crewmates and said, slowly, “Might be kinder to cut them down now than to let them go as they are. They can’t survive long in that small, beat-up thing. I wouldn’t give them a fortnight.”

Robin frowned. _I don’t see why we should be kind to these people._ Although his assessment was no doubt correct. Maybe Zoro was also thinking something like, _At least they’d die in battle_ \- and with an honest enemy, at that, not stabbed in the back by their own officers. Zoro was likely to care about that.

And if they did kill them now, she thought suddenly, the four of them would be tied together with the weight of the deed – the guilt, perhaps.

Then she would not feel so alone.

She recognised that this was a rather strange way of reasoning, and not one Luffy would have approved of. The thought was still there, though.

“I don’t wanna let these guys go, just like that,” muttered Franky harshly, looking down at his hands on the railing. “The thought just sticks in my craw.” He looked up, over at the other three. Like all of them, he’d made no effort to lower his voice, not caring if the enemy heard him.

Robin, Zoro and Nami all nodded silently, but Robin wasn’t sure she liked where the shipwright might be going. His face seemed harder than she’d ever seen it.

“And I _really_ don’t wanna help them,” he went on. He cast a quick look over at the beat-up baggler, his large fingers drumming on the railing. Robin wondered if, despite his words, there might not be an instinctive professional urge in him to patch up those holes, no matter who sailed the vessel.

“But doin’ something like that…” Franky sighed heavily. “Not sure if you guys could really handle that, Zoro-bro, Nami-sis. And…” A pause; his gaze grew more distant now, not really looking at anything.

Then, reluctantly, as if the words were dragged out of him, he said in a lower voice, “It’s just that… I just figure… it’s not what 'Captain Usopp' would have done.” Another pause. “You know?” he added, almost apologetic.

Robin felt her face go white; she made a small, choking sound of dismay. _No, no… Don’t say that…_ Below her, she caught Nami and Zoro both flinching.

“Ah… Th-that’s…” Nami stuttered, then stopped talking, eyes wide. Zoro closed his eyes and stood very silently for a while, one hand stretched out to grab the railing, muscle clenching.

Then Nami’s expression changed, her eyes filled up with an understanding Robin didn’t want to see there. And Zoro looked up again, now managing a very twisted smile in Franky’s direction. It looked just a little odd on Zoro’s face. “You turning into Chopper now?” he said to the shipwright.

“But…” said Robin, glancing down at the confused-looking and still very pale and practically hopeless ex-Marines. _They took him away from us,_ she wanted to say. _Forever. They may just be low-level grunts, but they’re still part of the side who did that. They broke our faith in ourselves. They may have broken our captain for good._

_If we’re just content to let them go, how can we look ourselves in the eye, after that?_

But she knew that Franky was right. She also knew that Chopper and Brook would have agreed with him, if they’d been awake (they’d have said the same much earlier, in fact). Likely Sanji, too – eventually.

“You’re right,” she muttered, not looking up. Part of her loathed having to admit that, but, she realised now, another part was relieved. The cold inside her was retreating, and so was the rage. She wasn’t trembling anymore.

*

The sky was a bleak gray. It took Nami a few moments to calm down and get steady on her feet again. When she looked up, Franky and Robin had both moved away from the railing on the helm deck, though not in the same direction. Franky was out of sight from the lawn deck, apparently checking out the state of the figurehead, judging from the sounds she heard. Robin was standing close to the helm, arms crossed and back to the islet, looking distant in a Robinlike fashion.

As for Zoro, he’d walked over to the tree and had already sheathed his favourite sword. Now he was tying the other two to his waist.

Franky’s words had been right, Nami could see that now. An act of mercy didn’t have to be a betrayal.

“But...” she mumbled to herself. “Even so...”

“What?” said Zoro, leaning towards the nearest wall instead of coming back by the railing.

Even so, she’d meant to say, Zoro’s words had been right, too. Just letting these guys go as they were might be not as merciful as all that – it could even be a form of cruelty. At the same time, she, too, didn’t really feel like offering them a helping hand.

She didn’t say it, though, she just shrugged inarticulately. Somehow bringing that up just felt way too tiring, right this moment. Strange. She hadn’t really talked much, let alone done anything. Yet she felt almost drained.

Below on the rock, the two leaders of the group were walking over to the baggler, probably guessing that mortal battle might not take place after all.

These people were harmless in themselves, they weren’t even on the enemy side anymore, but still... no. She couldn’t bring herself to even suggest the Strawhats should help them for nothing. But what if they could trade with them? That would be different.

Then again, she doubted the deserters would have anything good enough to trade. Except, perhaps, for information...

She drummed her fingers tap-tap-tap on the railing, and swung the ClimaTact around in a distracted fashion.

But maybe, she thought now, feeling oddly distant, maybe they _didn’t_ need to find out more about the island.

Maybe they didn’t even have to go there.

After all, no-one was forcing them to. It wasn’t too late for her to change her mind and convince her crewmates to do likewise, was it? They could turn the boat around and start following the log pose again, they could trust Luffy to get better on his own... they could...

 _Don’t be ridiculous,_ her critical self told the rest of her. _Shape up, navigator._

Stupid smart critical self. But she sighed in acknowledgement. _Guess I have to._

Down below, Villa had boarded the baggler and was talking to some of the more visibly badly wounded in his crew. Doscaballos had returned to his former spot in front of the Sunny, keeping a watch on the Strawhats. Meanwhile, some Marines had again started to angle from the other side of the boat, while two of them were walking towards the other end of the oblong islet, carrying empty buckets. Probably looking for puddles of rain water, Nami figured. They carefully avoided looking up at the Strawhats, even the Sunny itself.

Footsteps descended the steps from the galley: Nami froze for a moment, but when she turned around she saw it was only Sanji, returning from his long nap on the kitchen table. She breathed out in relief – that’s right, Luffy was sleeping in the boys’ cabin – then glanced down at the islet again.

“You’d better fill him in,” she told Zoro, nodding in Sanji’s direction. “I’m going down there.” Then she grabbed her weapon and leaped over the railing, landing easily on the uneven rock. Zoro let out a small noise of surprise, and there was a reflexively protective “Hunnh?!” from Sanji, but she ignored those as various low-toned mumblings and the occasional small exclamation sounded from her crewmates behind her.

*

She was a little surprised to find Doscaballos sitting on the uneven rock and in the process of mending a torn fishing net.

“My father’s a fisherman,” he explained dryly, noticing her look. He went on to inform her calmly that even if that hadn’t been the case, Marine recruits were often taught skills and trades even after joining up. It was just the deserters’ bad luck that none of them happened to have acquired real carpentry skills.

After they’d talked for a few minutes in a rather stilted, hesitant fashion, Nami had the feeling that of the two ex-Marine leaders, Doscaballos was the better for her to negotiate with. To be sure, there was nothing affable about his manner, nor did he seem particularly open. He was reserved, stiff and matter-of-fact. But he now appeared to make an effort to restrain his earlier wariness and hostile attitude, as well as his protectiveness over his crew. From what Nami had seen, Villa seemed to be more upfront and in-your-face about those things. Both approaches had their merits, but right now she preferred to work with the more diplomatic one. And besides, Nami was similarly stiff and restrained.

For all that, Doscaballos looked ever more suspicious and alarmed the more her slew of questions about the island got detailed and specific, getting into nitty-gritty stuff like reefs and tidal habits and whether there were many poisonous plants. As he came out and asked her if the Strawhats were planning to go back there, and she confirmed it, he started, then stared at her for a long moment. He seemed extremely nonplussed.

“You... but... you’re insane,” he said. “Why would you ever want to do _that_? To go back to that, that hellhole?”

“Well. We have our reasons,” she said tersely. “Never mind why.”

“Hm.” He paused briefly, then went on slowly, “You’re not... you’re not seriously intending to set up a base there, are you?” For some reason, the idea seemed to alarm him.

“Of course not!” she burst out, then realised she’d been too loud as Sanji popped out in sight over the railing.

“Are you okay, Nami-baby?” he called out anxiously. “Hey, shithead!” he yelled to Doscaballos. “Don’t you dare upset her!”

She gave him a reassuring wave. “I’m perfectly fine, Sanji. Don’t worry.” Then she turned back to the ex-Marine, saying in a cold, but lower tone of voice, “No. We’re not in the least interested in something like that.” The thought made her stomach turn, in fact. “We don’t _want_ to go there,” she added sharply, “it’s just that –” She stopped; annoyed at finding herself saying as much when it was really none of his business. But the notion he’d implied was intolerable. She added with a near-growl, “We lost something important there. Now we need to go back.”

“All... right,” said Doscaballos slowly. “If that’s your story, Cat-Burglar Nami, well… I guess you’re sticking to that. But… if you guys are really going to be that crazy… hm. Maybe we have something you could be interested in, then.” He rubbed his forehead, looking nervous for the first time. The effect of hope, perhaps.

“Oh?” she said, back to a calm and neutral expression. “And what might that be?”

“Several things,” he muttered. He stopped his work on the fishing net and put it carefully to one side. “One of them… well, I guess I can tell you that. The commander – the first one, with the seaking whistle – well, it turned out he kept a log book, and a pretty thick one, too. We found it pretty much by chance in what was left of his tent. It’s got a lot of details about the island, and the seakings, and how to get there.”

“Well. That sounds like it might be useful,” she said cautiously.

He nodded. “Mm. Uh… and there might be something else, too…” but now he was avoiding her look, which immediately raised her suspicions. “I’ll need to speak to Villa about it first, though. We might have had some plans for those things.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Plans? I see. So you do look ahead to something, then.”

“Well…” he began, then stopped as Sanji suddenly jumped down from Sunny, landing right beside her with a grim expression.

“You’re really all right, Nami-baby?” he asked; when she confirmed that was indeed the case, he only nodded and breathed out a “good,” before fishing up a cigarette. His posture was angular and tense.

“This is Doscaballos,” said Nami, nodding in that direction. “He’s one of the leaders of this group. I think he’s a co-captain with that Villa guy. Right?” She turned to the object of her introduction.

“We’re just the leaders,” said Doscaballos, getting up, “since the guys elected us right before we set out. Pirates have captains; plus it’s a Marine rank. But we’re neither. So.” He put his hands in his pockets, looking over at the cook. “And you’re Blackleg Sanji.”

“Yeah. I remember you from back then,” Sanji said, lighting his cigarette. “You had a shithead for a lieutenant.”

“That I did,” Doscaballos acknowledged calmly.

“Zoro filled you in, right?” Nami asked Sanji.

“Yup. Well… more Robin-honey, really...” He shrugged, giving her a brief smile, but still looked rather wound up.

“Good.” She told him what Doscaballos had said about the log book, while making clear she didn’t yet know if this was true or not. Then she asked, “Sanji, how are we in stocks right now? If this thing exists, can we trade these guys some stuff for it? I’m thinking water, particularly.”

He gave her a surprised look, opening his mouth for a moment, then closed it again. Was he thinking, ‘Why don’t you just steal it?’ perhaps? That would make sense – but then he nodded again. Maybe he understood.

“Well…” He puffed on his cigarette, consideringly. “Depends on how long it takes to get there, of course” – he glanced at Nami, but she only shrugged in a “who knows?” way – “but if it’s within a week, no problem. We’re fine with food right now, except for meat. And we’ve got water to spare. Especially after the storm last night.” He was referring to Franky’s ingenious system of rain slides and pipes leading to filtered water cisterns.

“It _is_ mostly water we need,” Doscaballos admitted cautiously. “We still have some bread and dried fruit, and we can get fish from the sea anytime.”

“Well, I’ll have to see the book first, of course,” said Nami. “By the way.” She spun the ClimaTact around a few twirls. “What’s the other thing you mentioned before?”

“What other thing what?” said a voice behind her.

“Ah, there you are,” said Doscaballos, nodding to his co-leader as Sanji and Nami turned around.

“And who the hell are you?” said Sanji.

Villa gave him a long, weary look. “Pietro di Villa is what they call me, since that’s where I’m from,” he said. “Or just plain Villa. I know she’s Nami the Cat Burglar from her bounty poster, but who the hell are you, suit-boy?”

Sanji got a red glare in his eye, but before he could start replying, Doscaballos said, “He’s Blackleg Sanji. Cool down, Villa. I told you about him, right?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Villa shot Sanji a coolly appraising look, then shrugged. “I see. Well, everyone knows Lieutenant Guildford’s an asshole. Or was, possibly.”

“Villa.” Doscaballos voice was low-toned and serious. “They’re going back there.”

Pietro di Villa blinked. “What… They are? Really?” He looked stunned, staring at Sanji and Nami, who nodded silently at this. “Are you nuts?” he burst out, then swerved back to Doscaballos. “Are they going to…”

“No, we’re not going to set up a damn base there!” Nami snapped.

“Even if they were, does it really matter to us, either way?” said Doscaballos. “I mean…” he sighed, “it was a pretty far-fetched plan to begin with.”

Nami’s eyes darted from one to the other. “All right, you’ve got to explain what the hell you’re talking about,” she said, irritated and impatient.

“Well, briefly, we knew odds of us surviving aren’t that high, especially if we have to sail for long on the open sea, or if we run into Marine troops,” said Villa. “Unless it was a small contingent, ‘cause contrary to what you might think we aren’t exactly all that weak. But we’re human.”

Sanji twitched at that, muttering, “Go on,” harshly. Villa looked a bit surprised and annoyed, but seemed to control himself.

And he did go on. “We also figure most pirates wouldn’t be interested in negotiation either, but some might. So. None of us would ever want to go back there again, not even for an hour, but… people who’ve never been there wouldn’t get what a fuckin’ awful place it is.” He shuddered briefly; his co-leader grimaced.

“We figured some people might be interested in using it for a base. It’s a remote place, the layout of the island makes it easy to spot any arrivals, and to defend against them – the biggest _obvious_ problem is the seakings, but if you can find ways to make them ignore you, or even work with you… And that’s where the log book comes in. The old commander had that whistle that helped control those things, but he also wrote down lots of stuff on them. Maybe enough to manipulate them, I dunno.”

He shrugged, as if he didn’t really care one way or the other. Well, he was a mutineer, and had been sentenced to a penal battalion before that, Nami thought. Still she wondered if he was really as sanguine at the thought of helping out unknown bigshot pirates as he seemed.

“We didn’t have to try out the advice in the book,” said Doscaballos, "since the baggler has a seastone bottom like all Marine vessels. So we were really safer in the water than on land.”

“Yep,” said Villa. “Anyway, I still think anyone would be nuts to want that, but if we could buy some security for us that way, might be worth a try. So we brought the log book and the eternal pose even though we’re never gonna use it ourselves. Never thought _you_ of all people would be willing to help us in return for them, though…”

Sanji breathed in too much and started to cough.

“Wait, what did you just say?” said Nami slowly.

“The log book and… what now?” said Sanji, throwing his cig away.

Doscaballos and Villa exchanged looks, then they both pretty much sighed, and Doscaballos explained, “We don’t have a log pose, but we’ve got an eternal pose set on that island.”

“Yeah, but we’re not trading that for water or even ship repair,” said Villa. “It was fucking hard to get hold of. Good friend of mine got blown up for trying.” His face looked even stonier than before when he said it, and his voice was thicker and harsher. Nami didn’t doubt he was telling the truth, and yet… somewhere in his eyes there was a hint of something calculating. A negotiator’s look, holding out for more.

She met it with one of her own best haggling faces. “Yeah? Well, how would we even know it’s the right thing? For all we know, even that log book you keep going on about could be a falsification.”

“So it could,” said Villa calmly. “And whatever you give us might be poisoned – or, if we’re talking repairs, those could be faulty in a way we wouldn’t realise until it was too late and the ship’s a complete sieve.”

“Hey, you!” snapped Sanji loudly. “Don’t talk to Nami-baby like that, bastard! You shitheads should be fucking grateful we’re even talking to you and willing to hand you anything at all.” He was trembling with anger now, Nami noticed distantly, as she had been on the Sunny earlier.

Villa shrugged, again. “I guess we should,” he said blandly. “Then again, while you guys obviously don’t want much to do with us, the same thing kinda goes for us, see? You didn’t stab us in the back like the brass did, you were honest enemies – but you still took down a lot of us. And if you’re planning on just stealing what’s ours… well, at least we can say we’ll go down fighting.”

“And then we’ll throw the stuff you want into the sea,” said Doscaballos, “before you can find them. The rest of the crew is with us on that.”

“I see…” said Nami slowly. But then she abruptly broke off and turned away. “I guess we’re done here, then,” she announced crisply. “Bring the book and we’ll give you some supplies – and if you ask us real nicely and want to tell us everything else you know about the island, I _might_ ask Franky if he feels like repairing the leaks in your ship. I can’t guarantee he’ll accept, though. Let’s go, Sanji.”

She started to walk off, Sanji in tow. They’d reached the side of the ship when there was a sharp cry of “Wait!” behind them.

“All right, all right, Thunder Girl,” said Villa. She turned and gave him a dry look. “It’s the log pose,” Villa went on. “That’s what we want, okay? Your normal one for our eternal. That’s fair, right?”

 _”What?”_ Sanji snarled. ”Some shitty nerve you have. Forget it! Right, Nami?”

Nami was looking steadily at the two leaders. Her eyes narrowed.

“Nami...?” Sanji’s voice trailed off, sounding uncertain and worried.

She shook her head. Couldn’t he see these guys were serious? They were playing for high stakes, and while they wanted to improve the survival of their men, they knew the Strawhats didn’t want to kill them anymore. That, unfortunately, gave them an advantage.

Of course, the Strawhats didn’t need the eternal pose. They could get by without it. It might take them weeks, especially if the weather was unfriendly, but they’d get there eventually.

Probably.

Maybe.

She fingered her log pose – their log pose – slowly. This was the invaluable tool given to her by old man Crocus by Reverse Mountain, right after they’d entered the Grand Line and met Laboon. Crocus had given her a much-needed lesson on the fundamentals of Grand Line navigation, something that hadn’t been found in any book she’d seen in East Blue. Then he’d given them his log pose when Sanji broke the ones they’d gotten from Vivi and her Baroque Works partner. An unexpected gift, like so many they’d received since then.

They had sailed three quarters’ of the distance around the world using this log pose. It had pointed them to Whiskey Peak, to Little Garden, Drum Kingdom, Alabasta: it had taken them upwards to Skypiea, down to Longring Longland, to Water 7… Then, for an unusually long time, it had pointed to Fishman Island – although part of that time it hadn’t been used, after the great split-up when they’d all been reduced to trusting vivrecards instead. And it had gone on leading them to different islands in the New World, finally showing the way to _that_ one. Now it pointed away from there, away from the place they were going back to. To some new unknown place, to adventure and the future.

She felt no hesitation when she pulled it off.

“Here it is,” she said, her voice sounding both thin and cold as she held it up towards Villa and Doscaballos.

“N-Nami,” whispered Sanji, but when she glanced at him, he swallowed and nodded at her.  
“It’s okay,” he mumbled. He was looking pale, though.

The two ex-Marines were looking pale, too. “All- all right,” Doscaballos said weakly, after a moment or two. “We’ll go get it. The log book, too. And we’ll tell you what we know – we’ll ask all the guys to tell you.”

“Get the eternal pose right now,” she said sharply, “and we can sort the rest of it out later.” Her left wrist felt very odd and exposed, too light without the familiar weight of the log pose.

Villa only nodded, almost looking frightened at this unexpected chance. He hurried over to the baggler and re-appeared very quickly, after little more than a minute, only making himself slow down the last few steps before reaching Nami.

Holding out the precious artifact, he let Nami examine it for a moment, but without letting go of the string it was tied to. She touched it, shook it around a bit, felt its weight. Then she gave him their log pose with one hand and took the eternal pose with the other.

“Hey…?” said a far-too-familiar voice from behind her, from the Sunny. She froze on the spot. “What are you doing, Nami?” the voice continued.

Nami looked up to see her captain standing there, looking utterly confused.

“What- what does it look like I’m doing?” she said heavily, feeling sick. “I’m – I’m giving these guys our log pose. That’s what.”

“Huh?? But- what – why?” He blinked at her, quite befuddled. “Don’t we need that to sail by?”

“I swapped it for an eternal pose instead.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s pretty hard to sail backwards in the Grand Line,” Nami heard her voice say with little expression, though there was a sour feeling in her mouth.

“Huh? That’s just crazy, Nami – HEY!” She flinched, but it was the ex-Marines that Luffy was looking closer at, first Doscaballos and Villa, then the rest of the crew in the baggler. They all looked quite alarmed at his attention, many of them backing a step or two. Luffy’s face started to look angry. “I REMEMBER THEM!” he yelled. “GET AWAY FROM THEM, NAMI!” And before she’d had the chance to say anything more, two long rubber arms had shot out and grabbed both her and Sanji, dropping them on lawn deck three seconds later.

“What did you do that for?” Luffy sounded mostly confused and scared now, but there was anger there as well. “Those guys - !! They’re enemies, you can’t trust them! They could’ve hurt you real bad!” He grabbed her shoulders and shook her anxiously for a few moments, prompting a muted “Hey!” from Sanji, scrambling up from where Luffy had dropped him and moving closer. But Luffy soon stopped as Nami kept looking back at him stonily without moving. He let go of her and stepped back.

“They couldn’t, Luffy,” she said. “I’m stronger than that. And besides, they mutinied.” _Just like us,_ she thought. “They’re not Marines any longer.”

Luffy’s hands were dangling uselessly by his sides. His expression was still very bewildered, but there was something else in it now, something troubled and lost and betrayed. Then his face set, growing harder.

“Nami,” he said quietly. “What do you mean by ‘going backwards’?”


	7. Luffy vs Nami

Absence, Chapter 7: Luffy vs Nami

 

******  
Chopper tried to fight the lurching feeling of the ground opening up beneath his feet. He’d known this was coming, right? They all had. He’d wanted to get it over with, too, just like Nami... But it still felt so awful. His throat felt as dry as sandpaper, his hooves clammy. _What’s going to happen to us?_

Nami had met Luffy’s eyes when he asked her the question. But instead of staying that way and answering him right away, she looked around at all of them, maybe checking to see everyone was there. Her gaze lingered on Chopper and Brook – they, like Luffy, were the latecomers here, and she must wonder if they’d been filled in on what was going on. Chopper didn’t know if the brief, whispered words from Franky and Zoro had covered everything, but at least he knew who those people on the islet and the low, embattled boat were.

He didn’t want to even look at them. He could understand why it was necessary to make a deal with them, but he didn’t want to be near them – didn’t want to be reminded that those people even existed. And he felt it wasn’t right that _they_ would witness this moment.

But right now, he focused on looking back at Nami as fiercely and seriously as he could, trying to convey to her that yes, he’d been told something about it.

“Sorry, you guys,” said Nami now, still looking at the rest of the crew, not Luffy. “I traded our log pose without asking anyone else, except Sanji. But if you want to, we can still take it back. It’s not too late.”

Chopper shook his head with the others at this. That wouldn’t feel right. “No,” he mumbled, hearing the others mutter things like “Nah”, “You’re the navigator”, and “Deal’s a deal” – that last one from Zoro.

Nami bowed her head with a soft sigh, then took a deep breath and looked back at Luffy. He hadn’t moved his head, nor acknowledged her words to the others in any way. Chopper took two quiet steps to the side so he could see his captain’s face better.

“Nami.” That was all Luffy said, voice even lower and more intent than a minute ago. It was a clear reminder of his question.

“Because,” she said quietly, “we’re not going to that other island anymore. We’re going back. To the last island.” She paused for breath again, then continued, still keeping her voice level and fairly low. “We turned around at sunset two days ago. That’s why we’ve been sailing at night, to follow the stars since we couldn’t use the log pose.”

He blinked, once. Then his eyes redoubled their focus. “No. We’re not.”

“Yes, we are!” she burst out, then said in a lower, more controlled tone, “We _are_.”

He pulled at his hat. “We’re not. You’re lying. You’re just joking, Nami. But it’s a bad joke, so stop it.”

“It’s no joke.” Her voice was tired and flat again, but now the words spilled out much faster; she was almost babbling. “I turned the ship around two days ago at sunset, when you were sleeping. And that’s why we’ve been sailing at night now, so we could follow the stars, because we couldn’t use the log pose. And we didn’t tell you anything because we knew you wouldn’t understand and would” – here she paused for breath - “would take it badly.”

Again, there was that look of wide-eyed shock and betrayal on Luffy’s face, like a little boy who had suddenly been treated unjustly by someone he trusted utterly. It hurt to see. Chopper winced, hugging his arms to stop them from trembling.

Then his expression changed, something Chopper couldn’t define flashing over Luffy’s features. When it had passed, his eyes were urgent and intent rather than angry, as he took a step forward.

“Nami,” he said, reaching out a hand. Sanji twitched chivalrously; but this time, Luffy merely held her by the wrist in a protective way, “Nami, you _can’t_. You just can’t go back there.”

“I – I think we have to,” Nami said after some very long seconds. She closed her eyes briefly. “We left something...” Looking up, she took a few more deep breaths, then steadied herself and looked back at Luffy, softly removing his hand from her arm. “There are several reasons. For one thing, Robin... she doesn’t... she doesn’t want the rest of us to, to be in danger because of it, but I know she really does want to go back and read the poneglyph that was there, in that place. It’s part of her dream, you know. It’s important.” She brushed away a strand of hair from her face, then after a few seconds, hurriedly added, “But it wasn’t her idea! It was mine!”

“Nami’s correct,” said Robin. Chopper swerved to look up at her, as she stood right next to him. Her face was pale, her voice bleak. “It’s... that’s something I would like to do... for myself.” Her voice sank down very low, “I know it’s selfish, though.”

“Sorry, Robin,” said Luffy without moving, quiet but determined. “But we can’t go there now. Maybe later, when we’re really strong. When I’m the Pirate King. Then no-one’ll give us any trouble.”

“We can’t wait that long!” said Nami sharply. “We need to get back there _now_ , or – or – I don’t know _what_ will happen, but we just have to!” Her voice had grown frantic now.

Luffy’s face grew grimmer again. “No, we don’t,” he said tightly. “We shouldn’t. It’s a bad place. And you can’t decide that, Nami.”

Chopper clenched his front paws so hard it hurt. It felt wrong that Nami should stand there before Luffy’s quiet-angry face, looking so alone. But the fact that it really was all the rest of them against Luffy in the first place felt even more wrong. Everything about this felt wrong. Even if it was necessary.

“Luffy,” said Zoro in a low voice, stepping up so he stood closer to the two of them, captain and navigator. Crossing his arms, he went on, “Nami’s right. And she didn’t decide this by herself. We all talked it over and agreed. We’re going back.”

Luffy didn’t turn around, but his face twitched briefly, though his expression stayed the same. He kept looking steadily at Nami.

“It- it’s true,” said Chopper in a high voice, forcing himself to speak. “We talked it over, all of us did…”

“Shut up. I don’t care.” Luffy’s voice was low, monotonous. He only raised it slightly as he went on, crossing his arms, “I don’t care who made the decision. But you have to unmake it now. Turn around and go to the next island instead. We can’t go back there. It’s a bad place.”

Nami’s patience and self-control cracked at last. She snapped, “Why do _you_ say it’s a bad place? You’re the one insisting everything was just fine, that we didn’t” – was she going to say _lose anyone_? wondered Chopper? But whatever it was, she bit down on it and instead went on – “that, that nothing really bad happened! So, so it shouldn’t– _you’re_ not the one to talk!”

That was a _really good point_ , thought Chopper, putting his head to one side, admiring Nami’s arguing skills. And it hadn’t occurred to him at all. Surely this, at least, would reach Luffy, making him pause and doubt himself, maybe even start remembering a tiny bit?

But if so, Luffy didn’t show it. He just looked at his navigator in unresponsive, unimpressed disapproval. “It’s a bad place,” he repeated flatly.

 

*

At the other side of the thin, rocky islet, close enough to see body language and hear shouting but too far to hear most of the Strawhat discussion, the former Marines were waiting for whatever the outcome might be. Taking their cue from the two leaders, most of them weren’t watching the Strawhats head-on, but kept busy with chores. They’d made a fire and had gathered as much precious rain water as their flasks and ladles could contain. Now people were changing bandages and washing wounds. Those who couldn’t do so for themselves were nursed by their comrades. Many were fishing, though they had little bait. A few early catches had already been put to fry on the rocks next to the fire.

But none of them were talking very much, and when they did, they kept the voices down. And they weren't fools enough to think their leaders ignored what was going on with the Strawhats – they evidently paid as close attention as they could without outright staring.

Doscaballos and Pietro di Villa were acutely aware that their own fate hanged in the balance. Any minute now – no, any second – Strawhat Luffy could decide that old enemies were better dead than alive, and he was strong enough to kill them all without any help.

At least that would be quick, though. It seemed even more likely that the pirate captain would decide to go back on the deal they’d made with Cat Thief Nami, taking back their log pose and fail to go through with trading repair and provisions for information. That would leave them in the same bleak situation as when they came here, only with the pain of hope lost and the return of numb despair.

Then again, it was also quite possible that their former enemy would want to do something even crueller. Strawhat Luffy wasn’t particularly known for that kind of thing, but maybe that just meant he didn’t tend to leave witnesses. He was still a pirate, after all.

And they were powerless to affect the outcome of the pirate argument, too: whatever the deserters could think of to say, the Strawhats wouldn’t appreciate outsiders butting in on their affairs. Even less so former enemies.

All they could do was wait, going for useful tasks just in case they’d be allowed living.

“Looks like Cat Thief isn’t backing down,” remarked Villa quietly, as he whittled the tip of a broken oar-blade into fish-hooks.

Doscaballos bowed his head in assent. He was busy stuffing a pipe with tobacco for the former Captain Fredericks, whose broken arm prevented him from doing it himself.

“But the Strawhat doesn’t seem too happy about that, either,” he pointed out.

“’Course not,” said Villa, only darting a look from the corner of his eye towards the pirates. “It’s his authority that’s threatened.” He frowned in thought. “But you know,” he said in an even lower tone, “it doesn’t _look_ much like a mutiny.”

Fredericks accepted the pipe from Doscaballos with a grateful nod. After taking a puff, he asked just as quietly, “So what does it look like, then?”

Villa didn’t reply right away, finishing up one hook before starting on another. The pirates were being quiet right now, but hardly calm: the air felt full of tension. It was much harder to be and look impassive right now than half an hour ago. Hope would do that to you.

“Like a family quarrel,” he said.

Fredericks exhaled. “Ah.”

Doscaballos leaned back, crossing his arms, looking out towards the empty horizon, the quiet ocean. “Huh. Something to that,” he said. “Only, y’know… if that’s how soft he is, it kinda makes you wonder how these guys have gotten this far.”  
“Yeah,” said Villa slowly. “Though… reminds me of some of the stories you hear about Whitebeard. But they might just be bunk.” He shrugged.

Fredericks took his pipe out from his mouth again. “You know,” he murmured, “I’ve tried to put two and two together. I wonder… perhaps our battle with them didn’t turn out quite as one-sided as we thought.”

“Huh.” Doscaballos breathed out. “You mean…”

“Yes.” Fredericks’ voice, still held low, yet felt as sharp as a well-honed sword’s edge, splitting the air.

“And if I’m right… well, _if_ we survive this, I believe a large part of the reason why will be that Strawhat wasn’t awake when they first came upon us,” he murmured.

Villa shot another quick glance towards the pirates.  
“Yeah…” he mumbled softly. “Might just be right about that.”

 

*

Nami supported herself on the Climatact, feeling weary. “I know it’s a bad place, Luffy,” she mumbled, rubbing her temple. “But...” The words slid away from her. Yes, they had good reasons to do this, but... it wasn’t as if Luffy wasn’t right. Even before anything had happened, before the trap was sprung, there had still been something indescribably creepy and unpleasant about that island. She’d been unable to put her finger on it, yet she remembered feeling very uncomfortable with its landscape: the sticky, suffocating air, the low-leaning trees with dry leaves, the sickly-smelling bushes and flowers, the awkward-looking, mournfully calling birds... How much worse wouldn’t it be _now_?

She recalled the way the Marine deserters had talked about the island: how they’d escaped from it in such pitiful condition, determined not to stay there one moment longer. And that was where she was bringing the crew back. Her stomach knotted up again.

At this point, Sanji spoke up.

“Luffy,” he said with apparent calm. “Let’s say we do what you say and turn the ship around again. We take back the log pose from those poor shitty bastards” – he pointed with his thumb in the ex-Marines’ direction – “and sail on to the next island like we were doing before. Like usual. But you know there’ll be danger there, too.” He took a step closer, searching Luffy’s face. Luffy turned his head, his gaze finally letting go of Nami – it was hard for her not to slump in relief - to give Sanji a half-curious, half-blank look back.

“The Grand Line isn’t _safe_ ,” Sanji continued, spreading his palms in emphasis. “Are you going to let us fight those dangers, whatever they are – or will you insist on handling it all, like that pirate ship a few days ago?” Pausing to exhale, he then went on, more quietly, “We’re a crew, you know. You can’t do everything yourself.”

Luffy stared at him for a few long moments. Then he burst out, “I just want everyone to be together and have fun! And a captain’s got to protect his crew. …Besides, you guys are all so weird these days.”

Nami swallowed and looked down again, then quickly back up before she could change her mind. “But you can’t...” she said hoarsely, “...you can’t do that all the time, Luffy. You have to let us protect you, too. You have to let us fight.” _Stop taking on the duty of fighting all by yourself_ , she wanted to say. _Stop putting the whole burden of grief on us because you won’t see it’s there. Let’s split them up, and share._

Again, Luffy was quiet at first, but he looked blank and uncomprehending now. Then, he just blinked and repeated, “But you guys are so crazy now.” He shrugged. “So I can’t.” He turned his face away, eyes errant and shifty.

Nami jerked her chin up. “Captain.” She was amazed to hear how clear and cold she managed to make her voice sound, as she straightened up even more. It was as if it belonged to someone else. “If you turn the ship around, the rest of us will just turn it back when you look the other way. Or when you fall asleep.” She paused, drawing for breath before continuing. “We talked about overpowering you, but… I don’t think that’s the way to go. Especially since we have an Eternal Pose now. We won’t touch you, but we’ll keep turning back.”

After a moment, she added, reluctantly, “Even if you beat us up.” She didn’t think he would, but maybe if he became really desperate to ‘save’ them… in any case, he needed to know how seriously she took this, and that it wasn’t a violent kind of mutiny. At least not that. But she was sure he’d still see it as a betrayal.

Luffy just looked at her. He didn’t exactly stare and he certainly didn’t glare, only _looked_ at her with round, disbelieving eyes.

It was as if all the air had gone out of him. This same way, Nami remembered, was how he had looked back on her island, as she had tried to convince him that she was just an evil backstabber who wasn’t worth saving.

He had been right, back then, in refusing to believe the apparent facts. Was it any wonder he clung to denial now, too?

An eternity seemed to pass.

“I... I have to,” mumbled Luffy finally, hoarsely. One hand was raised.  
Then he stopped, letting the hand fall. The light went away from his eyes.

He turned and looked at all of them, his eyes almost alien with their lightlessness. Robin seemed composed, as usual – less hard and distant than she’d been when they were first confronted with the ex-Marines, but still not showing much emotion. Brook seemed quite calm as well, his posture neat and contained, his skullface unusually immobile and hard to read. Sanji, Franky and Chopper wore grim, tight expressions, all visibly struggling to hold back signs of compassion that would do little good. But Zoro, on the other hand, wasn’t looking very hard-faced any more. He looked... fairly open, to Nami’s eyes. As if trying very hard to tell Luffy, without words, _Get this. I know you can._

Luffy turned back, his eyes meeting hers briefly, but it felt as if he didn’t really see her. Or maybe he didn’t think she was worth acknowledging.

Then he looked at Sanji, briefly. Was there a light in there for half a second; a flickering thought, passing by?

“Captain’s gotta take care of his crew,” he mumbled, head hung low now, eyes not visible under the brim of his hat. “’S what a captain does. You guys... you guys can’t...” He stood still again.

After some more long seconds, he raised his head just a little. Less awfully pale and empty-looking now, he still seemed to be far away, looking at something a very long way off. Or, perhaps, trying to hear a sound thousands of sea leagues distant.

“Don’t say that,” he mumbled. “I’m not listening.” He clenched his fists, though his eyes were still far away. “I’m _not_. So stop saying that,” he whispered. His voice was so low Nami could barely catch it.

And then, abruptly, he unclenched his hands, his shoulders slumped, and he pulled down his hat and turned on his heels, walking away from the others.

Heavily, slowly, he went up the steps to the prow. Nami tensed – would he try to leave the islet and change course right now? – but Luffy just walked past the helm without a glance. Instead, he walked up to the railing on the starboard side, the side facing the islet, and sat himself down on it, legs crossed. He looked steadily down at the ex-Marines, watching them all from up there. From down on lawn deck, his face in profile looked as set and unmoving as a statue.

 

*

He remained there on the same spot while the crew cautiously began to move according to plan. Nami asked Robin to follow her back down to get the logbook from the deserters and help get more information out of them. She felt pretty shaken up by the confrontation with Luffy, and was afraid her wits might be too scrambled to ask all the right questions, or to retain the answers well. Sanji went to the galley and came back with a barrel of water and a big sack of various foodstuffs and a few beat-up old kitchen utensils they could spare. Franky grabbed a handful of tools and some scraps of wood and metal before leaping overboard and making his way towards the baggler with a calculating eye. Chopper, Zoro and Brook stayed on the ship. Chopper found himself some chores to do, moving from one spot to the other with nervous energy; Brook and Zoro, however, stayed where they were on lawn deck and kept an eye on Luffy from there.

Luffy didn’t stir even once. He kept sitting unnaturally still while half the crew concluded their deal with the deserters below, simply watching over them in silence.

He didn’t move after Sanji returned, nor after Franky left the baggler not just repaired but with a new mast and sail, an improved rudder plus new additions for the purpose of keeping water out and provide for counterweight in heavy weather.

He remained as still as stone when Nami and Robin returned to the ship after nodding awkwardly to the ex-Marines, weighed down by their new knowledge; and showed no response when Doscaballos opened his mouth and, after some hesitation, called a tentative “Good luck!” towards the pirates (realising he couldn’t say “Thank you” since the Strawhats didn’t want to think of what they’d done as help, only a trade).

Only after the ship had pushed out from shore, picking up a rising western wind and sailed on for five minutes, the islet no more in sight from his seat – only then did he finally show life again by slumping over, tilting precariously to one side of the railing briefly before gently toppling back and falling down onto the helm deck. He was already snoring peacefully when Zoro and Chopper reached him, seconds later.

 

*

He was somewhere that wasn’t hot, and it wasn’t cold. It wasn’t dark, but also not like real daylight. Everything was just a thick, even gray all around, and there was nothing else to see at all.

It didn’t even feel like a ‘somewhere’ – it felt like something that was in-between being a real place and not existing at all. Until now, he hadn’t known there could be anything like that. But then again, the world would always showed him new things he’d had no idea about before, so he wasn’t _that_ surprised, even so.

It wasn’t all quiet. There was a kind of low buzz or hum in the air that didn’t come from any one direction; it was the same all over. The air was thick and still like on a stuffy, hot summer day, although it wasn’t hot.

He didn’t mind being here, lying on ground that wasn’t ground, listening to a sound that wasn’t a sound. It felt restful. Like being off to the side of everything that was real, not being noticed for a while.

New sounds intruded, though. Spoken words floated by, nibbling at him, and when he tried to shoo them away and ignore them, they dodged and returned. They were annoying him and weren’t restful at all.

The mumbled words seemed to say something about getting stronger and not needing help all the time – needed not to be helped, sometimes. He knew it must be a memory but didn’t know who had said it; couldn’t make it fit the voices he knew. It wasn’t Ace. It wasn’t Zoro or Nami or Sanji, either – wasn’t anyone in the crew. And it wasn’t Coby or Bon-chan or anyone else he could think of.

That meant it had to be him then. Didn’t it? Yeah, he decided, sitting up and pulling his knees up. Must be. He was the only one left – and it did sound like something he might have said some time, maybe to Ace when they were younger. Though he wasn’t altogether sure – there had been something off about the way the voice had sounded… but maybe that was just the way memories sounded in this place-that-wasn’t-a-place? Like the way your voice got recorded on a tone dial didn’t sound quite like yourself...

He blinked. For some reason his chest was hurting again. Why? At the thought of a tone dial? That seemed silly. Brook had one in his head and that was a kind of sad story, but it would all get much better when Laboon finally heard it: it was a _good_ thing Brook had that dial. But there seemed to be something about tone dials he didn’t want to think about, something that hurt. He squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in his knees, listening only to the faint ever-present humming.

 

*

And then the in-between gray half-place was gone. There was warm sunlight and a clear blue sky; cobbles of stone underneath him and wooden buildings around him. Luffy blinked, putting a hand up to shield himself from the sudden flood of light. He was standing up by now, and he’d already forgotten he was crouching a moment ago. Now he was back in the real world, where it smelled of early summer and adventure. All thoughts of rest were swept away.

He looked around. So! He was back in Fuusha village again, and just like last time, there were more houses around than he was used to. Right in front of him was that other inn, the one that wasn’t Makino’s. Luffy raised his head and saw the big white house he’d noticed before on the hill overlooking the village. Maybe it didn’t use to be there, or maybe he just had a bad memory. But like the other houses, it still felt entirely in its place, being there. So that was all right, all of it.

He closed his eyes with a smile and breathed in the air deeply. The wind was blowing from the sea, bringing in dreams and scents and wild wishes from elsewhere. The whole world was out there, waiting for him.

It was the same sunny morning as it had been the last time he was here. (He didn’t wonder how this could be possible in the first place, or how he could know it with such certainty. It was just a fact.) And wasn’t there a ship coming in to harbour soon? He had some vague notion of getting afraid it wouldn’t be the right kind of ship, but that seemed distant and silly to him right now. Of course it would be okay! He’d _make_ it so it was the right ship! Besides, how could things go wrong on a great day like this?

Grinning from ear to ear, he ambled down towards the small harbour once more, rounded a corner and was soon standing on the stone jetty. There the ship was, still a fair bit away but steadily coming closer.

He reached up to make sure his hat was on his head – yup, sure was! – and adjusted it, then tugged on the strap of his bag. Everything was in its place.

His eyes widened as the sails billowed in the wind, showing a Jolly Roger which had a skull on two crossed swords, marked with three scars. The mark of the Red Hair Pirates.

Luffy shuffled his feet where he stood, scratching the back of his head thoughtfully. Last time he was here, he’d thought Shanks showing up here wouldn’t be right, but that was then. He’d changed his mind about that, now.

He couldn’t start sailing with Shanks, of course: he had his own crew _(somewhere out there, only lost right now; their shapes and faces flashed through his mind, then retreated into a safe distance)_. He couldn’t give Shanks his hat back yet, either. But just saying hi should be okay,shouldn’t it? Or else he’d have to run and hide again, and then he might never stop running.

He found himself looking down. Scuffling his feet, he stared at the stone blocks of the jetty, trying to figure out what felt right.

“Hi there, Anchor Boy!”

Luffy’s head shot up. “Shanks!! Ben!” he cried out joyfully, everything bright and shining again as he saw those two, Captain and First Mate, leaning with their elbows on the railing… right above him? Wow, that ship was fast! “You’re here already! I didn’t even hear you!” Luffy commented, beaming brightly.

“’Lo, Luffy,” said Ben Beckman. Behind them, he thought he could see other familiar shapes – that big round guy just had to be Lucky Luh, for instance – but the others seemed to hang back for now, their faces hard to make out. It was only the captain and first mate who were in clear sight where Luffy was standing.  


Luffy felt full of bubbling joy, too much for him to speak. Yet at the back of his head, there was a mumbling feeling that maybe this wasn’t quite right after all. But he squished that down and tossed it away.

“You look like you’re doing pretty good,” said Shanks with a wide, easy grin. “Ah, don’t worry about the hat business right now,” he added, waving lazily. “That can wait till later, some more proper time. It’s not like we _planned_ to end up here. We were hit by… what were all of those again, Ben?”

“A tornado, a cyclone, a hurricane, a twister, a giant turtle, a surprise Marine sneak attack, a volcano, four of the Shichibukai…” Ben listed matter-of-factly.

“Yep, that’s pretty much it.” Shanks turned back to Luffy. “So you see, we were blown all the way over here. Anyway! I understand you got separated from your crew. So, why don’t you come aboard and we’ll bring you over to them? They might get lost on the way here otherwise, you know.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep this old fool in check,” added Ben. “He won’t tease you as much as he used to. You’re both brother captains now, after all. We all know that.” There might even have been a glimmer of pride in his eyes, as he looked down at Luffy. Shanks only smiled.

“You guys are so great!” Luffy burst out, bouncing with appreciation. He did need to get away from here, out onto the sea. And he needed to find his crew, too. But at the same time… He frowned again. His gaze fell again. “I’m not sure if…” he mumbled.

Ben and Shanks said nothing, just waiting for him to go on.

“...Not sure if I should,” said Luffy, looking off towards the horizon.

“Really?” said Shanks, his eyebrows shooting up. “Why on earth not?”

“Because there is someone in this village that I don’t wanna leave,” Luffy heard himself say.

He blinked. Where had that come from? The words felt... true, they tasted like truth, but he didn’t understand them. Someone in this village...? But wouldn’t everyone be okay and wish him well and wave him off when he went? Even if the Mayor would still mutter about pirates.

He opened his mouth to say that he didn’t know why he’d just said that, that he was taking it back, that he really wasn’t giving up on adventure and Shanks shouldn’t look at him with surprise and disappointment like that – but he didn’t get a chance to say any of those things.

“Oh, but there isn’t anyone here in this village,” said a voice from the ship; a sly, smooth and assured voice. It put Luffy to mind of a snake wrapped in velvet. “Not any more, that is,” it continued.

Moving into view now, there was a man Luffy didn’t know was standing right next to Shanks and Ben. He was thin and fairly tall, with pale skin, shiny black hair and glasses. He smiled down at Luffy politely.

Luffy froze.

He had no idea who this person was or how he’d met him. For half a moment, the word ‘butler’ turned up in his head, but it didn’t connect to anything and vanished again leaving no tracks behind. But there was something cold and hard and angry and shivery inside him now. And there were two things he was sure about, although he couldn’t say why: 1) he did not like this guy at all; and 2) this was someone who _couldn’t be trusted_.

Luffy wanted to shout, to ask Shanks why the hell he would let someone like that on his ship, someone who’d only betray them… but he found himself unable to speak, as if his lips had been glued together. He could only stand there in silence, trembling, sweating, glaring. Of course if he had been able to say all that he still couldn’t have explained how he knew it. He only knew this person was WRONG WRONG WRONG and shouldn’t be anywhere near Shank’s ship or the village.

Shanks and Ben had moved off into the shadows now, maybe even gone inside – Luffy wasn’t sure. The man with the shiny glasses laughed softly and said smugly, “Now, don’t think I killed them or anything like that. No, no.” He pushed up his glasses with the base of his palm; he wore black gloves on both hands. “It’s just that they already left,” he went on in an easy tone. “Your family, the innkeeper, the Mayor, and everyone else… they’ve had enough of this place. They’ve grown tired of this island.

“They’ve also grown quite weary of _you_. You’re just too tiresome to handle, it seems. So they all stole away in the night while you slept. They will never come back again.” His voice took on a teasing, sing-song rhythm, “Never, ever, ever, e-ver.”

“LIAR!” Luffy was able to scream, all of a sudden. “You’re lying! They’re not – they didn’t – it was _you_! You did something to them!” He balled his hands into fists, feeling so angry he couldn’t see properly. “You – you captured them or something! Give ‘em back!”

“Oh, you want to play?” said the man with the glasses, still smirking. Then he dropped the smile as he looked over his shoulder and said, “Men. Step in,” in a cold tone of command. A crowd of dark shapes came out of nowhere, surrounding him.

“GIVE ‘EM BACK!” Luffy drew his arm back, revving up for a Gum Gum Pistol. He couldn’t recognise any of those men, who all wore black hats with cat ears. That was good, at least – that meant the man with the glasses hadn’t tricked Shanks’ men into fighting for him.

He let his hand fly, but the smirking man instantly flowed back, deftly avoiding the attack. Only his men were bowled over or flew high, even though Luffy hadn’t been aiming for them.

His arm snapped back. Backing up the jetty, he narrowed his eyes while looking at the ship, seeking out the best place to grab onto. He wasn’t thinking about calling out to Shanks anymore. He could explain later, when he’d beaten up this bastard.

“Tsk, tsk,” said the bastard now, but not to Luffy. He was turned to the other guys – his own crew or whatever they were. “You lot are really just as hopeless as ever.” And with a sudden _shing!!_ , something that flashed like metal grew from his gloved hands, like a claw – then he spun around and stabbed one of the cat-eared guys through the chest. The victim only gave a little sad sigh, then sank down on the ground, and the man with the glasses pulled his claw out.

Luffy only stared. He couldn’t find any words to say at all.

But now the man with the glasses kicked the one he’d stabbed. “Get up.” His voice was all cold now, not the smug, fake polite tone he used with Luffy.

And the stabbed man slowly got up, looking downcast but not hurting. There was no blood in the open slash in his chest.

Only now did Luffy notice the stitches and the grey hue on all the men with cat ears, and how sad they all looked. “They’re zombies?”

The man with the glasses glanced down at him, looking amused again. “I made a deal with that Moria fellow. This works out well.” He pushed his glasses up. “I told you, once. A crew lives and dies by their captain’s will. They should be pleased to die at my whim. That’s what being a pirate captain means. And now, they can serve me even after death.”

Luffy abandoned caution and grabbed hold of the yardarm to the foremast and swung himself over, bouncing from the mast to launch himself straight at the man in glasses. _“Stop that,”_ he growled.

But again, he missed – and this time, the man swept past him and struck out with his long metal claws, almost managing to cut Luffy on the cheek.

“What are _you_ so upset about?” he purred.

“DON’T TREAT YOUR OWN MEN THAT WAY!” screamed Luffy, ducking down and spinning around as he kicked out, again trying to hit the other man real hard, again missing. “AND GIVE EVERYONE BACK, YOU BASTARD!” He kept hitting the cat-eared guys instead, since the man with the glasses hid among them all the time, even holding them up as a shield.

The man sniggered. “You really are much too amusing. I told you already, I had nothing to do with it. The people of this village are just gone, pure and simple. Nothing to be done about, now.”

“No! You’re lying.” Luffy was panting now, trying time and again to hit the man with the glasses and not the grey zombies. “That’s not – I’ll make it so they’ll be back!” he cried. “I’ll make it so them _not_ being here is the lie!” Ducking and weaving through the cat-eared guys, jumping back to avoid a five-fingered slash from his enemy, he suddenly thought, _This guy shouldn’t be this fast. I think he’s really slower than this._

But slow or fast, the smoothly-moving man finally made a mistake in his soft footing, tripping over something small and unforeseen on deck. It was only for an instant, but that was enough for Luffy to finally reach him with one outstretched arm, pinning him sideways against the main mast. The man swore and tried to cut Luffy on the arm, but he could only use one of his hands and rather awkwardly at that, so Luffy wasn’t bothered as he drew his other arm way back.

And yet the man with the glasses was still smiling, even chuckling lightly. “Don’t be silly. That was never your talent. You’re no liar, boy.” One claw dug deep into Luffy’s arm.

 _“Shut up!”_ hissed Luffy. He let his fist fly, punching hard. The man in glasses grimaced and hunched over in pain... but then he raised his head and was still laughing, his glasses still glinting. Luffy hit him again. _“Give them back!”_ And again. _**Give them back!”**_ And again... _“GIVE – ”_

He stopped his fist in mid-air. For half a second, in his mind he’d seen the image of a small ship, bobbing up and down on big, sunlit waves: a pirate ship, with a ramshead in the prow. The next moment it was gone, vanished.

“...give it back...” he whispered.

But then the man with the glasses turned gray and flat and small, and so did the ship itself and the cat-ears, until everything crumbled up and disappeared – which would have meant big trouble for Luffy if the sea hadn’t disappeared as well.

Everything went away.

The next thing he knew, he was sitting on the ground in the wooded hill above the village, the morning sun still shining bright in a clear blue sky above him.

“...A dream. It was all a dream,” he said out loud after a while, once he’d caught his breath. He pulled up his legs and hugged his knees. There was no smirking man with glasses, no cat-eared sad-faced zombie crew; Shanks wasn’t here at all. There was no ship coming into harbour, either. It had all been just a dream.

That meant he could stay right here. He could stay.

He sniffed cautiously. He thought he could sense the smell of freshly baked bread in the air. If he was right, that meant there really were people here, not gone at all – just sleepyheads, like he’d thought in the first place. Good! He grinned briefly. So much for the stupid man in the glasses and his lies. Either people had never been gone in the first place, or Luffy had made them come back after all.

But he wasn’t completely sure about the smell. And now he was afraid of getting up and going down to the village to check. It would feel so bad to find out he was wrong. Better to stay right here.

He didn’t want to think about what he’d told Shanks. But maybe there were too many things in his head he didn’t want to think about, because the words shoved themselves forward anyway, even though he didn’t understand them.

“ _‘Someone in this village...’_ ” he mumbled, digging with his finger in the dark forest earth. He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the warmth of the sun as it shone down on him through gaps in the leaves overhead.

 

*

The next morning, they found Luffy still asleep, his face turned towards the wall and his blanket pulled very high, almost covering his head. But he was no longer in his own bed. At some time during the night, he must have gotten up – whether awake or sleepwalking – and climbed into the empty bed that nobody slept in any more.

He stayed there through the rest of the long morning, in deep sleep whenever they checked on him, and didn’t show up for breakfast at all.

Or even lunch.


	8. The Last Few Days of Sailing

Absence, Chapter 8: The Last Few Days of Sailing

********

 

Now that they had an Eternal pose to guide them, there was no longer any need for night-time sailing by the stars. The crew went back to their regular schedule, only keeping a night watch as usual. In spite of this, Nami was only more tired, not less. Her earlier nervous energy was gone, replaced by a great listlessness. She checked the course and the weather regularly, but spent most of her time indoors, reading through the Marine commander’s log book and other sources when she wasn’t taking short, uneasy naps. Robin took over some of her normal tasks, trying to help her relax.

Zoro was still having some trouble sleeping, though that had lessened. Now, it was training that had become harder to do, the familiar routines failing to be reassuring. There was a persistent sense of futility he found hard to shake off.

The crew kept on doing their daily tasks as usual, but something had changed, irrevocably. Later, many of them would find it hard to remember these last few days of the return journey clearly. Their memories were irregular and fragmentary, few things standing out amongst a thick, sad, overwhelming grayness.

Luffy kept away from the rest of the crew, hardly speaking a word to anyone. Even his mumbling to himself had all but stopped. Most of the time he didn't look grim and stonefaced, but rather had a blank expression, his eyes not fixing themselves on anything much.

He avoided the usual mealtimes, but would trudge over to the galley now and then, when no-one was there. As the refrigerator was locked, at first he could only nick unappetising, unprepared food from the cupboard.

After noticing a lot of flour, raw potatoes, pickled cucumbers and the like had gone missing, Sanji had a brief struggle with his pride and then started leaving a big pile of food on the counter twice a day – things like sausages, chicken, broiled fish, meatball sandwiches, potatoes and fruits, but not as much as Luffy might normally eat. Even so, sometimes there were actually some bits left on the counter when Sanji returned.

The weather shifted but mostly stayed hot, dry and overcast, southern and eastern winds rising and receding. There was no storm. In Robin’s flowerbed, the tiny, hardy Grand Line bumblebees, who could nest on any ship that carried plant life, were buzzing a lot more than normal.

***

Luffy was sitting on Sunny’s figurehead with his knees up and his hands clasped over them, now and then unclasping them to tug his hat around, then clasping them once more. The weather was calm at the moment, only a mild breeze tickling his toes. At times he made a move as if to pull up the loose shoulder-strap of a bag, always letting the hand fall when it didn’t find any, his expression unchanged as if he hardly noticed what he was doing.

In his mind, he could see the same image as in his dream: that other, smaller ship, with the head of a ram instead of a lion, bobbing up and down on sunlit waves. A smaller figurehead, but one which was just as nice to sit on. He almost knew its name, almost felt he could just reach out and touch that ship, but he shied away from pushing. But he understood it must be their old ship, the one they sailed on before Water 7.

There were other images that had turned up in his mind after that one dream. A rather vague, fuzzy image of someone else who looked like a sheep, but this one was a human. There was a girl, too, blonde, thin and pale, but he couldn't see her face very well. Clearer than the other two were these three little kids. He also got an image of some weird-looking guy with a hat and a striped chin and hearty glasses who was walking backwards.

The people in the images gave him a feeling they all came from the same place the ship did - and from the man with the glasses that he'd seen in that dream. It must have been the same island, then, he thought. An island that felt similar to the Fuusha Village part of Luffy’s home island – similar, but not the same. He understood that now.

He didn’t think he really _liked_ understanding that. But he couldn't push the knowing away.

He climbed down from the figurehead slowly, hands in pockets, then ambled further down to the Lawn Deck. He blinked, seeing a big, round hole in the lawn, before he remembered this led to the Docking System below. It had been ages since he last saw the Docking System in use. In fact, he couldn’t even recall being below deck at all for a long time now. Not that he’d tried to keep away on purpose – it just hadn’t seemed all that interesting, down there. Sure, Franky had some kind of room there where he repaired stuff and drew up plans for building new things, but it wasn't like Franky was there all the time. Luffy would rather wait for him to come up on the top decks instead.

He sat there on the lawn for a while, frowning and peering into the hatch, pulling up blades of grass and tossing them into it. No. He still didn’t know how the Docking System worked – or if he did once, he’d forgotten it. And he wasn't sure he wanted to take another look at that small boat down there, the Mini-something which looked like the ship in his head.

What use would that be, anyway? None of this was even really important, unless it could make the crew start listening to him again. So he could keep them away from that place.

He felt tired and pointless again. There was nothing to do: they didn’t want to be cheered up. He rolled over onto one side, soon falling asleep in the grass.

 

***

 

After bringing Nami a nice pot of hot black tea and a nourishing sandwich as an afternoon snack, Sanji lingered on in the observatory-library for a bit.

Nami thanked him, breathing in the smell of the tea, her finger trailing the outline of the decoration on the cup absent-mindedly. Then she looked up at him attentively. “Are we still okay with supplies?”

Sanji nodded, leaning back against the door-frame. He wasn’t about to remark that she was asking him this a lot lately. Normally she wouldn't raise the issue too often, trusting him to keep an eye on things. “We’re not low on anything important that we can’t stock up on once we’ve landed – and even if we’d have to leave the island right away, we still wouldn’t starve,” he asserted. “Even meat is okay – mostly big sea mammal meat, lately, but that works, too. Water’s fine, we've got more than enough filtered rain water for a while.”

Nami sighed and leaned back, rubbing her forehead. She took a deep drink from the cup, her serious expression softening into a lovely smile at the taste which couldn't help but make Sanji smile briefly as well.

But the moment passed. Sanji nodded to the book in her hands and her notes beside it. “Any luck reading that shitty Marine bastard’s log?” he asked.

“Mm, some,” she hummed. “His handwriting isn’t that bad, so far – I’ve seen a lot worse. A lot of the things he puts down are hard to figure out, but I think they're mostly shorthand for internal Marine affairs and his personal life.” She made a face at the last bit. “I have to say,” she continued, “he goes on about discipline and being in control of one's men an awful lot.”

“Well… it was a penal battalion,” said Sanji, blowing out smoke and putting his hands in his pockets. “Guess when you’re a heartless shithead Marine commander, that kinda shit comes with the territory.”

“I wonder where they dug him up from,” said Nami, her lips twisting in distaste. “Anyway… there’s more, of course. He writes about the seakings around the island quite a bit.” Her tone was flat and businesslike. “Apparently he had a zoan fruit – I didn’t know that, did you?”

Sanji nodded. “Saw it at a distance, when he fought Luffy.” It hadn’t seemed like an important matter to mention, back then. “Some kind of great lizard, I gather.”

“Well,” said Nami, “that helped him communicate with the leader of the seakings, apparently – though it was that weird bone whistle he had that really did the trick, when they struck some kind of deal together. He claims the leader kept a hard regime himself, making the other seakings jump when he told them to. Guess those two _would_ sympathise.” A sharp tang to that last remark, but then she swallowed, and quickly moved on.

“So, eh…” She flipped through her notes, avoiding Sanji’s eyes. “The island… it’s been called by two names, Seaweed Island because there’s unusually many types of seaweed on its beaches – many of them are rare and very good for your health, apparently – and Turnaway Isle, because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you get there. Some even combine the names and call it Turnweed Isle.”

“It really has that bad a reputation?”

“Looks like it.” Taking another sip of the tea, Nami adjusted her seat as she went on, telling him what else she and Robin had pieced together. Only parts of it were from the log book, the rest coming from their conversation with the Marines deserters and even from some of their other books in the library. Once they had the name of the place, it was easier to find references to it.

Nobody actually lived on Turnweed Isle any more. There seemed to be plenty of reasons for that. There were the seakings, of course – less numerous in some years than others, but always apt to make fishing a dangerous hazard, and the amphibious ones often ventured up on land, where they attacked people and livestock. The soil was good for spices and rare medicinal plants, but grains and vegetables often failed. And then there were the numerous diseases carried by insects - it seemed as if the medicine herbs weren’t enough to take care of them.

“Or none of the settlers had a doctor who really knew their stuff,” noted Sanji. “Huh. So that part with the herbs wasn’t a lie, either. From that guy.” He meant the haunted-looking man they’d come across in a row boat before they first arrived in the island, who had claimed to be looking for the island as well - he'd gone on about those herbs a fair bit... Since he’d disappeared once the fighting started, they’d subsequently assumed he was a Marine plant sent to further lure them in, but maybe he’d been genuine, after all. What was his name again? Tolis, Tomasso, something like that...? Well, not that it really mattered now, anyway.

“He still showed up rather suspiciously,” she said, “and it wasn’t like _he_ mentioned most of this stuff. Though I suppose there wasn’t much time…” She shrugged, then continued her summation. By now, she looked and sounded a lot tenser than at the start, and she was mostly looking down on her notes.

These days, those who did brave seakings and diseases to travel to Turnweed Isle tended not to be ambitious spice merchants, but rather adventurous slavers. Along with the seakings, the waters around the island were also home to an unusually shy and retiring tribe of mermaids and mermen. These merfolk were much sought after, less for beauty than for their reputation of having great medical skills - even the mermen fetched high prices for this reason. Their amazing healing talents rivalled the cream of the crop of human doctors. And they never turned a patient away.

“Ho-however” – Nami stuttered briefly, her voice unsteady – “this may well be a thing of the past, because no-one’s seen mermaids around here in several decades... S-so, they might all have left for some other place – or, or already been captured earlier.”

She finished, putting her notes aside, her hands trembling lightly. She put them in her lap, making an effort to keep them still.

“Healers, huh…” said Sanji slowly. Abruptly, he sank down on the nearest chair, feeling faint.

“That’s what it says,” said Nami in a low tone, without looking up.

Sanji gripped his right knee, barely able to keep the leg from shaking. “F-fancy that,” he mumbled weakly.

“Yeah,” said Nami simply, heavily. “And now that I’ve read it, I just can’t – stop thinking. You know. If he fell into the water. If there were merfolk right there. If. If.”

“Yeah.” Sanji’s voice was hollow. He sat, staring blankly into space.

She took a deep breath – then, all at once, the words came tumbling out. “I – I know it’s just – there’s no way” – she sniffled – “it even _says_ they haven’t been seen in years, it –” She let out just the one sob, but suppressed the rest, then went on unsteadily, “I don’t. I don’t...” She grit her teeth. “ _…Shit.”_

Sanji gave her a look of weak surprise. Nami rarely swore.

Holding one hand over her face, elbow on table, she muttered, “I did it again.” There was a pause.

Then she went on, roughly, “I keep doing this, you know. I keep thinking these things… like 'I want to talk about this with Usopp', or, '…if only he were here, if only I could talk to him, _then_ maybe I could get through this' – so _stupid_!!” she spat out vehemently. Voice turning rawer and more furious, she burst out, “If he were here, there’d be nothing to talk about! Nothing to get through!”

Then she abruptly stopped, burying her face in both hands.

Very softly, very quietly, Sanji stood up and carried his chair to her table, where he put it down right next to her. Then he sat down and, without looking at her half-hidden face, put a hand around her shoulders gently and carefully, leaned his head against hers.

He felt her body sag, accepting his touch and leaning into him in return. Neither of them spoke for a while.

Then Sanji cleared his throat, but his voice still felt hoarse and unsteady in his own ears as he talked.

“I know,” he said. “I know. That’s not stupid.”

“...But,” said Nami after another pause, her voice still thick, “It _is_ kind of dumb.”

“Well... maybe a tiny bit,” he murmured. “But it’s not stupid.” There was a distinction there, in his mind, though it was hard to put it into words. “It’s not – it’s not wrong, Nami.” _We’re crippled,_ he thought, _there’s a hole in us._ And the one they lost – he was no sage any more than the rest of them. He wouldn’t have known what to say either, if, if they’d lost someone else. But he’d have kept trying. He’d have tried again and again to fill the silence in the right way. And maybe the silence wouldn’t have been so gray and frightening.

Or so it seemed to Sanji right then.

There was no need to say any of that out loud. It was nothing new to her.

They sat together like that for some time, saying little, until it was time to start dinner.

***

 

“Okay. Okay, then,” mumbled Franky.

Standing in the corridor below deck, he raised one hesitant hand towards the doorknob. “Guess we’re going in…” But rather than doing so right away, he first looked over his shoulder at Robin and Chopper who had come there with him. They both nodded back in silence.

They’d come down to Franky's study simultaneously just a few minutes previous, but not for the same reason. Robin was there to convey a warning from Nami that the ship would likely hit considerable turbulence in a couple of hours. Chopper had lost two of the tiny screws holding his microscope together and couldn’t find them, so he needed new ones. Franky had mumbled “yeah, yeah” absentmindedly to both of them. He had something else on his mind.

Then he remembered. “Oh, right – sorry, bro. I’m all out of those screws,” he told Chopper.

“Oh,” said Chopper, disappointed. “I guess it can wait..." he mumbled. "I don't _really_ need it right now..."

“Eh, nah, if I have to I can make them for ya, but–” Franky chewed his lower lip, back to thinking of the same thing he'd had on his mind for days. “See, I’m all out of a bunch of things, but…” He paused, then added in a lower tone, “ _I’m_ out. But _we’re_ not.”

Robin’s eyes widened slightly, understanding clear in them; but Chopper only blinked and said, “Huh?”

“He means there should be more of those things in the Factory, I believe,” said Robin. She waved delicately in the direction of that room.

“Yeah. Probably. Maybe,” muttered Franky, looking down at the drawing board and the design sketch he'd been half-heartedly working on.

“ _Oh._ ” Chopper’s voice sank down to a whisper. He sounded sorry that he asked.

Robin was silent. Drumming his pencil on the board, Franky was expecting her to say something like _Do you think he would want it to go to waste?_ or _Is there any use procrastinating?_. –Or maybe just a simple _I see_ before leaving him to continue his wishy-washy fretting.

Instead she said, “I could come with you. If you want me to.”

He looked over at her in surprise. “Really?” Starting to feel better, he brightened up even more when Chopper added, “Me, too,” in a determined way.

“Man, you guys are just way too super!” he exclaimed with a big smile. He struck a pose meant to indicate gratefulness and good cheer, then straightened up and sobered again. “Right,” he nodded. “It ain’t locked, so… guess we’ll just, uh, go there right now.” Then he grabbed two baskets to stuff things in, handed one of them to Chopper, set his jaw and led them out of there. The party didn't have far to go; there were less than twenty strides between his study and the empty workshop on the other side of the Docking System.

So. Here he was now, standing outside the door, while his two companions were patiently waiting for him to man up and open the friggin' place.

He tugged on the doorknob slowly, let it go for a moment; then finally opened the door and stepped inside quickly so he wouldn't give himself more time for hesitation. Even so, he still stopped as soon as he'd crossed the threshold.

Chopper slunk past him and changed into Heavy Point to reach the lamp in the ceiling and light it. Realising he was blocking Robin’s entrance, Franky took a step to the left to let her through. But he stayed near the door as he looked the room over, taking in the view.

There was dust, but not too much of it – it really hadn’t been all that long, he thought, with another sharp twinge. The familiar mix of relative order and functional clutter reigned everywhere, on shelves and floor, on the work bench and the little work dais and even on the wall, where artistic sketches and drawings hung side by side with various idea sketches and more rare careful designs. The pile of scraps and rags to the left was the most disorderly place, but even there was a certain system evident if you looked at it. On the shelves lay dials and rubber bands, nails and tacks, pieces of string, caltrops and shuriken, and plenty of other little things. There were two steady boxes on the floor for the more dangerous items – the flammables and explosives. The jars and flasks inside were separated and kept in place with old leaves, grass, rags and pieces of paper, so they’d still be safe even in fierce storms.

The dais and the work bench both seemed to be taken up with interrupted projects, minus any potentially explosive parts: there were small rags intended to become ammunition pouches, lead bullets, coloured paints and items even Franky could only guess at. Next to the half-open toolbox there was a sack of jute with a peculiar smell and the legend “Jungle Biz” scrawled onto it.

“It looks pretty much like I thought,” he muttered after a while, when the silence got a bit too much. “'S close to how it looked when I last saw it, back when... back before. Knew it would be.” So why did he still feel surprised, then? he wondered. After all, he’d expected this familiar view –and it was what he got.

“It _does_ , but I didn’t...” Chopper, moving diffidently around the room, trailed off while he kept looking at this and that with his hands behind his back, basket still empty under his arm. He’d changed back to Brain Point already. “...I wonder what he was working on,” he mumbled, a little curiosity in his voice as he glanced at the dais.

“Ammo stuff, looks like, an’ something else I’m not sure ‘bout,” said Franky. He was picking at a piece of wire jutting out from one of the barrels. Meanwhile, Robin was bending down to look at one of the shelves, then turned without straightening, holding up something small and metallic towards Chopper.

“Would this be what you were looking for?” she asked.

Chopper stepped closer. “No, that one’s too big... b-but...” He got up on his toes to see the shelves better, “...I think these ones over here are the right size. Franky?” He looked over at Franky uncertainly.

“Huh? Oh yeah, right.” Franky raised an eyebrow at his li’l reindeer-bro. “Hey, don’t ask me ‘bout it. It’s not mine anymore than it’s yours,” he said. But he strolled over to the shelf anyway. “Put ‘em in the basket if you think they’ll do. An’ take some of these bigger ones as well – I’m running pretty low on them.”

“Oh-okay.” Chopper nodded attentively, but only scooped up half of the screws on the shelf, leaving the rest. Franky didn't comment. Instead, he took the string of wire from the barrel, coiled it into a ball and dropped it in the basket.

“Better take some grease too..." he muttered to himself, as he continued going through the room. "And I do need gunpowder... ain’t got no tear gas left, either...” Filling up both baskets at a brisk pace, he tried to be businesslike and matter-of-fact, staving off the uneasy feeling of trespassing.

Once he’d found the most essential things he needed, he stopped collecting. It didn’t feel right to stock up on material just in case. Not yet, anyway.

Maybe after the funeral.

He made no move to leave yet, though. Neither did Robin and Chopper. Instead, they all sat down at the same time, Franky cross-legged and the other two with their knees pulled up.

Chopper whispered, “It’s not different from the rest of the ship. I, I thought it would be, but it’s not.” His voice sank lower. “It’s the same emptiness.”

“...Yeah,” mumbled Franky, his voice pretty thick. “Yeah, it is. _Fuck._ ” A flash of fierce, caged anger ran through him, and he blinked hard, feeling something hot and wet in his eyes just waiting to be set loose.

“Fuck, shit, hell,” he kept swearing, still keeping his voice down. “Stupid... bloody _stupid_ fucking bastard, just... he coulda...” Words dried up, all useless: he focused on just wiping his face from snot and silent tears. _How are we supposed to forgive something like that?_ he wanted to say, but he couldn’t push the words through, didn’t want to.

Once his face was dry, he looked over at the others again. Only now did he notice that Chopper had rings around his eyes like he’d slept badly. But the little doctor wasn’t crying, and he didn’t look angry or even grim, either. There was a blank, distant look to his face that Franky found very un-Chopperlike.

Robin, who had remained quiet, looked even more distant and shut-off than the reindeer. It was more familiar on her, though it still sucked to see it.

“When my old master died,” Franky found himself saying, surprised both at the impulse to speak and how steady his voice sounded, “and, uh, after lots of stuff happened” – he scratched his metal nose – “I went back to where his headquarters had been. I mean, _our_ HQ, for all of us in the work team. It was our home, way back when. First, I just boarded it up so no-one else could move in or wreck or steal what little stuff there was left. Didn’t even enter it myself, not then. But eventually I started to use the place as a secret hideout, sometimes. Just getting away from things, y'know.”

“Oh.” Chopper’s voice was thoughtful. He tilted his head as he looked up at Franky, blankness gone for now. “Was – was that hard? To be there again, only not like before... I never went back to Doctor’s cave,” he said, the last bit so low Franky almost didn’t catch it.

Franky moved back towards the wall and put his hands behind his head, leaning on them and looking up. “Mm-hm. Nah, I'm guessin' that... it kinda would’ve been harder _not_ to go there, on those days when I wanted to. But that don’t mean it was always too super, bein' there.”

Sighing, he drew a hand through his hair, which he noted had started to lose its shape. He needed to recharge on cola soon. “Feh. I dunno why I’m going on ‘bout that now, anyway. ‘S not the same kind of thing at all,” he said gruffly.

They were silent for a while.

*

Chopper's thoughts went straying back to their captain again, remembering some of the things he’d heard him mumble recently, or little gestures he'd seen. Like pulling at the invisible strap of a bag.

_I wonder if it’s all really in Luffy’s mind. Or. Or if there is such a thing as ghosts. And if there is, what should we do about it?_

He shook his head, then cleared his throat to bring up something else. “We’ll get there soon, right?” he said. “Nami said it wouldn’t take long. But – maybe Luffy will try to stop us from getting off the boat.”

“If it comes to that,” Robin said, “we should be equipped to deal with it. We know his weaknesses. The easiest way would likely be to ask Brook to make his Lullaby Flan move so Luffy will fall asleep.”

“I don’t like that,” said Chopper, frowning. “It feels mean. If he can’t stop us, he’s gonna want to come along, to protect us. And he can’t do that if he’s sleeping.”

Robin shrugged, then smiled bleakly. “It was just a suggestion. In case we can’t think of anything else.”

“That stuff’s not the problem, anyway,” said Franky. “That’s just something we’ll deal with, if it happens." He looked all calm again, the anger gone. “Don’t think it’s remnant Marines or seakings we really have to worry about either – long as our guard is up,” he went on. “It’s this shit. In here.” He pointed with a thumb to his still non-cybernetic heart, then reached out and poked Chopper in the forehead. “And here, too.” Chopper flinched.

“There may be nothing to bury.” Robin’s voice was unusually curt, even harsh, though her expression remained distant. She had pulled her legs up further and dropped her head lower, picking aimlessly at the floor while staring at nothing. Shocked, Chopper and Franky both turned to look at her.

“I can do nothing to help.” Robin’s voice was thin and fragile, almost a whisper, as she hugged her knees and looked at the floor boards.

“Ro-Robin?” Chopper stared at her with worry.

“You – Are you –” Franky began, but stopped before finishing. But Robin was already nodding indifferently.

“Oh, I’m fine.” Then she looked up, meeting their eyes for a few moment. “But you two... Nami... all of you...” She sighed, leaning back towards the wall, spreading two empty hands out. “I don’t know how to help any of you,” she went on in a low, even tone. And I don’t have a single idea of what to say to Luffy.” She shifted position, bringing her knees down and to the side instead, no longer looking at them but not so distant anymore, either. “I’m not like Brook. _He_ knows how to grieve. And I honour him for it.”

Franky swallowed audibly, but his voice was still thicker than normal as he said, “I kinda... think Skeleton-Bro went more than a li’l bit mad, back then... Not that I blame him.”

“Perhaps that was still the right way to act, in the circumstances,” Robin said slowly. “I never learned how to grieve. All I know is how to freeze up inside, all the way down. And to go on like that. Surviving. But in a frozen state.”

A bitter smile. “That is not something I wish to teach any of you.” Then she lost the smile, just looked small and tired. She added in a whisper that sank down to almost inaudible, “He’d hate me for it. So ungrateful.”

Timidly, Chopper scuttled a little closer, enough so he could reach out one front hoof and put it on Robin’s left hand, cautiously. The hand felt cold. She gave him a look of faint surprise.

“Robin,” he whispered, then cleared his throat. “Robin – and Franky, too–” he turned and looked at the cyborg hopefully; Franky raised another eyebrow but reached out his own large hand. It easily swallowed both Chopper’s and Robin’s in its careful grip.

“Let’s just keep trying,” he said, trying to sound firm. “All of us. Okay?”

After a few long seconds, Robin smiled, just a little bit but without any bitterness. She met Chopper’s gaze and nodded. “Let’s do that. Agreed,” she said quietly.

“Of-of course we will,” muttered Franky, wiping his eyes with the knuckles of his other hand and grousing something Chopper didn’t catch.

Chopper felt something chafing inside him, a thought that was almost a resolve. Large and heavy, it moved like the beating of the wings of the giant birds. His chest was still too tight, still hurt too much for the thought to break through and be put into words. But the warmth of their hands together made it all seem easier, right now.

**

It was late in the afternoon and getting on towards dinner when Zoro took a break from training, leaving his spot on the third deck next to the tangerine trees. Usually he’d train up in the big crow’s nest, but Luffy had turned up there after lunch, doing nothing but watching the horizon with a dull, grey look. He didn’t look as if he wanted much to do with anyone, including swordsmen crewmates who didn’t treat him like a captain anymore. Zoro had climbed down without comment, bringing a couple of weights with him to do lifting and go through his forms down below instead. There was plenty of room beside Nami’s tangerine trees, Robin’s flowerbeds and the little work bench that nobody used. He’d trained, meditated, then trained some more for about five hours, now.

He felt grimly satisfied that he’d continued for as long as he usually did, not stopping earlier as he had yesterday. He still felt more worn out and tired than normal, though.

Zoro was well aware that they were getting ever closer to the island; already seakings and other monsters from the depths were becoming more numerous, and once they arrived, they might well encounter human threats again, too. He couldn’t keep going as he had for a long time now, feeling wrapped up in cotton, weighed down, distant. He needed his senses sharp, his attention awake and ready; he needed to be fully aware of his surroundings if he wanted to hear the voice of everything so that his swords could cut true.

But the intent alone didn't make it so. Every time he tried to push his mind to open up, to listen closer and focus outward, he felt raw and exposed, like tender skin being battered by a fierce hailstorm. It hurt, and he'd feel as if he were slowly choked. His mind shied away again, going back into retreat.

It disturbed and frustrated him: he didn’t usually back away from anything just because it was painful. Still, he just couldn't seem to find the right way to push through.

The sounds of guitar and violin tunes had drifted on and off through the air as he’d trained, the melodies starting and then stopping again, as if Brook couldn’t make up his mind what he wanted to play. But maybe he was just practising. Now, however, the tunes had stopped, and it was only a smooth, sweepy noise that met Zoro as he walked down to the Lawn Deck, intending to find himself a place in the shade to take a nap in.

Brook was sitting on the bench around one of the two big trees. His guitar and his violin had both been put aside, and he was sharpening his sword on a whetstone, humming something faintly under his breath as he worked.

“Ah – Mr Zoro. Please, do sit down.” Brook made an expansive, sweeping gesture towards their surroundings, as if all of Lawn Deck belonged to him. Zoro thought it over, glancing at a spot by the wall, but then sat down under the tree as well. There was plenty of room on the bench.

They sat quietly for a while, Zoro resting with his hands behind his head and Brook keeping on humming and sharpening his sword.

Finally, Brook put the whetstone aside with a very neat and precise movement. He sheathed his sword, took out an old tattered handkerchief from his coat pocket and threw it into the air. Metal flashing, he drew lightning-quick and split the handkerchief clean down the middle. The cloth fell to the ground in two pieces.

“There!” pronounced Brook with satisfaction, bending down to picks them up. “True, I could have been faster,” he noted, “but at least the edge appears to be sharp enough, for the moment. I must say, I’m pleased I was able to follow the old cut exactly. Not one thread askew.” He grinned widely – actually, Zoro supposed Brook technically always grinned, but he’d gotten used to reading the angles of Brook’s ‘face’ by now, and his mouth seemed particularly grin-like at the moment.

“You do that a lot?” said Zoro.

“Oh yes,” said Brook, nodding vigorously. “An excellent method for testing the edge. But handkerchiefs do not grow on trees, alas! Or so our lovely, stingy navigator tells me, when it comes to the question of pocket-money. No matter! I came prepared.”

He fished out needle, thread and scissors, then sat down and began to sew up the handkerchief again. After a few stitches (and one “ouch!” when he pricked his bony finger on the needle), Brook lifted his head a tiny bit and tilted it towards Zoro.

“I gather we are likely to arrive at our destination quite soon,” he said "Perhaps tomorrow, Miss Nami believes.”

Zoro nodded. “Okay. Got it.” He fingered Shushui's hilt briefly: for his part, his arms felt heavier than his swords did, lately.

Having finished his sewing, Brook picked up his violin again, and started to play another tentative string of notes.

“I should probable practice more,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s a pity our styles are so different, Mr Zoro. It would be difficult to find a sparring technique that would suit us both.”

Zoro wasn't sure about that, actually, but before he had the chance to say so, Brook had already continued, “Do you anticipate much trouble for us over there?”

“Could be,” said Zoro neutrally. “Doesn't hurt to be prepared. Not the main issue, though.” He gave Brook a considering look. Well. Whether this pain could be worked through or not, there was still something he needed to tell others in the crew. He’d prefer to talk to everyone, but he didn’t think all of them were ready to hear it, yet.

“Brook. Listen,” he said.

“Hm?” Brook angled his head attentively toward Zoro, the melody winding down.

“This is what I think,” said Zoro, his words slow, measured. He shifted position, sitting up a bit straighter, looking at a blade of grass in his hand. “We need a sniper.”

Brook stilled, the melody ceasing entirely. He put the violin in his lap, not saying anything.

Zoro went on, his voice steady now that he had finally started. “We need someone who can shoot accurately from a long way off. Who can use the ship’s cannons to their full potential. There are several of us with long-range attacks, but that’s not enough. We need precision, range, reliability....” Superhuman aim would be great; as would a great deal of flexibility in terms of ammunition, but Zoro realised those things would be unrealistic to hope for. “...We need someone who’s good at hitting their target under all kinds of conditions.”

He turned his head and gave Brook a sharp look. “We’ve come all this way, fighting together, either teaming up or taking care of different opponents one-on-one.” He heard his voice getting harder, his jaw tightening. “The longer we’ve sailed, the harder it’s been, each island tougher than the last. And... Well. There’s been few battles where we didn’t need absolutely everybody who was there just to survive, let alone win.” He turned away again, slumping. There were way too many memories in his head. He waited a few moments until the largest waves of them had receded.

Taking a deep breath, he let out a long sigh. “I don’t see why we’d magically get weaker opponents from now on. Especially here in the New World. It would make no sense, thinking that.”

Brrok hmm-ed in a drawn-out, melodious way. “No-o, that wouldn’t make much sense,” he agreed. His fingers were idly plucking the violin strings. “Ah... Has this been much on your mind lately, Mr Zoro?”

Zoro nodded. “Even getting Luffy back to his senses... it’s not enough. _We’re_ not enough, like this.” He leaned forward, massaging his forehead tiredly. “I don’t _want_ to get another sniper,” he admitted. “It would be weird for whoever we got… I don’t know if I could get past them being a… a replacement. I don’t want a replacement. But...” he went on reluctantly, “what I want doesn't matter much. 'Cause I think if we _don’t_ , we might not survive the next big battle we’re in.”

“Ah,” said Brook again, even more quietly this time.

In a way, Zoro thought, resting his head against his knuckles, it was both easier and harder to talk about this with Brook than he thought it would be with anyone else. Brook hadn’t been there, back in Water 7. He didn’t know.

But Zoro knew better than anyone just how much he’d gambled with the crew’s survival back then, when he made the ultimatum about Usopp’s rejoining conditions to Luffy. If Usopp hadn’t turned up when they were forced to sail early, if he’d failed to get the right words out, their journey would very likely have stopped at Thriller Bark, just as they wouldn’t have made it from Enies Lobby without him there, either.

It still felt like the right thing to do. A crew needed to be whole. Fully committed. And it wasn’t as if he’d been in any doubt as to what the outcome would be.

But now... now, he’d never be able to tell Usopp how much he trusted him, in a fight or otherwise. Stuff like that was better to convey without words, but... there would still never be a way to say them.

His hands were trembling, just a little bit. He straightened up and let them rest on his thighs, willing them to be still.

Brook coughed and cleared his throat. “Well... There lies much in what you say,” he observed, as he adjusted the screws on his violin. “However, in the time I have known him, Mr Luffy hasn’t struck me as someone who would try to recruit every strong, skilled person he sees. Else our crew would be quite a bit bigger, I daresay.”

“I know,” mumbled Zoro, looking away. In his mind’s eye, there was Luffy the way he’d first seen him, some dumb kid peeking over a stone wall, who just wouldn't give up and go away like a sensible person. - And then there was Luffy from the other day, his face all gray and lifeless once it sank in that he couldn’t make them listen and turn around.

Brook coughed, plucking the strings again. “It may be that we shall simply have to muddle along, then. To put our faith in destiny, as it were.” He lifted his head, eyeholes directed upwards to the billowing main sails, or maybe to the blue sky beyond it.

 _’Trust in fate’._ Zoro could remember saying that, once, when the crew was about to do something reckless but necessary.

He didn’t believe in gods – afterlife, yes; gods, no – and even if they existed he wouldn’t bow down to one. But he did believe in something you might call fate. There was a pattern of things, a way they were meant to turn out. He couldn’t refuse any fight even if the opponent seemed much stronger: that was due to a promise, and to pride, but also from a sense that if he died in that battle, then he simply wasn’t meant to go any further.

But there wasn't any ‘meant to be’ about this. It was like Sanji had bursted out during the crew council – this wasn’t supposed to happen. Usopp couldn’t be _dead_. It was so far outside the pale that it seemed almost ridiculous. And very deeply wrong – not in the sense of being bad or unjust (though he thought so, too), but simply extremely incongruous. Like the sun turning bright green, or people growing second heads.

So he couldn’t trust fate anymore.

He stared into the air blankly, barely registering Brook’s throwaway remarks about the weather. Kuina – hadn’t been fate either, or maybe it had, he’d been too little then to think of it like that – her death was beyond those terms.

What he did know was that this time, there was no promise to cling to, no unfulfilled dream to join to his. But there was the same aching, disbelieving knowledge of lost potential, once so brightly shining, never to be fully realised now.

He couldn’t think of anything more to say.

Brook drew his bow across the strings a couple of times, then stopped again. He sighed. “My pardons, Mr Zoro,” he said. He put the violin aside again. “I don’t seem to be able to do anything with this.”

Zoro raised an eyebrow and glanced at the skeleton. “Like what?”

Brook drummed his fingers on the wooden bench, crossing his legs. “The melodies won’t stay, today... I simply cannot seem to find the right one.”

“Right for what?”

“Oh... well... For today, I suppose... this moment...” Fidgeting on his seat, he clearly wasn’t looking at Zoro, and his demeanour seemed downright nervous.

Zoro gave him a flat look. “Brook.”

“Ah- eh -Mr. Zoro?”

“You sound _embarrassed_.” And Brook normally didn’t _do_ embarrassment. “What gives?” He prodded Brook on the side of his skull with Wadou’s hilt.

“I...” Brook sighed again, something going out from him. In a resigned tone, he went on, “There is a matter I would like to talk about. It’s... I’ve thought about it some time now.”

Zoro tensed but tried not to show it, just giving Brook a shrug. “Then talk.”

“Well...” said Brook, spinning his cane slowly, “it’s something that...” He turned his head, looking out at the waves. Turned still. “I’m afraid it happened on that day,” he said almost tonelessly, with a very faint stress on 'that'.

Zoro made a movement as if trying to grab something, though there was only air. He clenched one hand into a fist; the impression of having heavy weights pressing down on him had just increased again, and there was a thin but noteworthy flash of pain.

“Go on,” he said with forced calm once he realised Brook was keeping silent, waiting for a go-ahead. His voice sounded thicker than normal to him. He stared at his hands, forcing himself to breathe calmly.

“Yes...” Brook still had unusually little expression in his voice. As he went on, he mostly sounded calm but with a careful, studied distance covering the underlying tension. “It was not long after their first ambush surprised us, driving us back. I had caught Mr Sanji’s call for us to meet up on the hill where we’d first entered that little valley, and was trying my best to do so, but I’d found myself in an awfully tricky spot of the island.” With a slightly steadier voice, he added, “Not that the whole place wasn’t full of such tricky spots, as I recall it!”

He sat back more comfortably against the tree and turned his head back again, though his movements were still more quiet and deliberate than usual.

 

*

Brook still felt that it would have been much easier if he could have found the right tune to play when talking about this, but there was no melody in his head for this stretch of memory. Only smells, noises, confusion and curiosity.

He had fought hard during that first ambush, but like the others he had been surprised and overwhelmed by their numbers. In addition to being so numerous, these Marines were also tough, determined and had something starved and wild in their eyes that Brook had seen before in warriors that proved hard to beat. Mr Sanji’s call for retreat to the hill, approved of by Mr Luffy straight away, had made good sense to Brook and he’d quickly broken free and jumped into a clump of trees that seemed like a good shortcut.

But he hadn't counted on that stretch of forest being so very densely grown as proved the case. In that place, the undergrowth had shot up in what seemed like every inch of ground, and every direction you took only turned up more thorny thickets, more snaking roots to make you trip, and marshy puddles opening up under him without warning. Thin though he was, Brook found few spaces he could just slip through, and the effort to push away, mow down or jump around every single obstructive piece of greenery slowed him down a lot. It was hard to keep the direction straight in his head, too, to make sure he was not turned around in the utter absence of landmarks and overview. He panted from the effort, forced to slow down to an unsteady jog instead of running at full speed.

His sword-cane was only moderately effective at keeping the plants away from him, so though it pained him to use his blade in such a manner, he soon felt forced to unsheathe it, hacking and slashing at branches, bushes and twisting roots in his way.

He could still hear the din of the battle he'd retreated from, but close by there were few sounds disturbing the thick, oppressive, still air of the wood – few sounds except the thrashing and disgruntled mutters he made himself, and the noises from birds and animals that would suddenly appear unexpectedly. So when he thought he heard a familiar voice off to his right side he perked up, trying to come closer to pick out the words and make sure.

And the next time, he did hear words, if not very well.

“Oi, Luffy, wait up!” A pause, as if the speaker was trying to catch his breath. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine! But we gotta – gotta get back and join up with everybody!”

Brook took a leap of joy. That was very clearly Mr Usopp’s and Mr Luffy’s voices! He raised his sword to slash at the thick green-black wall of thorn-bushes taller than him to his right and opened his mouth to call out to his crewmates – only, right then a young crocodile suddenly appeared lying in his path, and opened its impressive mouth to snap at him. With a little yelp of surprise, Brook jumped out of the way, waving at the beast to make it stop.

“I know!” Mr Usopp’s voice again, evidently not having caught the noise. “But don’t run _that_ fast! I can’t keep up, and you could fall into quicksand again or something else just as dangerous!”

“It’ll be okay! Just hurry up! I need to see where everyone went so I can go beat up that Lizard-guy bastard!”

“Lizard-guy? Who’s that?” asked Usopp, as Brook was once again tearing through vines and tripping on roots of another gigantic shrubbery. He noted that he couldn’t hear as many thrashing, tearing noises from the other two – just because they were further away, or was their path smoother than his?

“Yeah, he’s got a big chin and I think he’s their boss, and he turns into a lizard – aaugh! Stupid bushes!”

“Oh, that Commander guy... so he had a Zoan fruit? I didn’t catch that – Luffy, you’re bleeding!”

Oh, dear! Again, Brook drew himself up and prepared to call out and storm himself through the bushes, only to stumble and fall into a knee-deep hole in the ground, fill of marshy water.

“Really!” he muttered to himself, getting up again rather unsteadily. Then he froze, noting sounds and movement to his left side now, too. He tried to keep close attention while still listening to his crewmates’ conversation.

“Oh,” said Luffy, surprised. “Yeah.” Going by the noises or absence of them, he seemed to have stopped now as well.

“Wait, I’ll tie that up....”

Brook was becoming more and more certain there was either a big animal or a group of Marines some distance off to his left, on quite a bit of higher ground but quite possibly still in the same clump of forest. Through tiny gaps in the foliage and undergrowth he spotted what might just be human legs. What more was, they appeared to be moving mostly in Brook’s and his crewmates' direction, yet more diagonal. Had they spotted him or the other two, and were preparing to cut them off in another ambush?

*

At this point, Brook broke off his narration, glancing over at Mr Zoro, who was listening with an intent gaze but otherwise quite still face.

“Are you following this, Mr Zoro?” he asked, pointing with his swordcane at a spot in the grass. “I was right here, going this way,” he drew a long line forward, “while those two were over _here_ , also going this way” – he lifted his cane and pointed at a spot to the right, then drew another line from it – “and I spotted a cluster of Marines over _here_ , moving as if they were going to cut us off, although that might just have been by chance. But if Mr Luffy and Mr Usopp were moving in a more open space than I was – and it did seem to me as if they were – the Marines in question might well have spotted them, but not me.” He paused to give his crewmate what would have been an expectant look, if he’d had any eyes.

Mr Zoro nodded. “Oh, sure. I get it.”

“Really?” Brook said dubiously, and would have pursed his lips if he'd had any. Still, even if Mr Zoro didn't quite grasp the locational set-up, he seemed to follow the basic situation, at least. “Well, anyway!" he continued brightly. "My point is, I wasn’t sure whether to raise the alarm and let my crewmates know about the Marines, or to keep quiet and keep an eye on them so I could be the one to surprise them instead, once they got near.” He sketched out the imagined confrontation in the grass, as the slash of the Marines’ movement met his own.

“But...” Zoro cleared his throat, “they’d just stopped, right? Luffy and Usopp, I mean.”

“Yes... and the thing is, the movement to the left seemed to have stopped at around the same time they did. This made me further suspect I was right and they _had_ spotted them. So I stood there not being sure what to do.”

Zoro nodded. “I understand,” he said in a low tone. “Go on.”

*

“Sheesh, you idiot,” said Mr Usopp’s voice now, while Brook was still trudging about on the spot uncertainly, “when are you going to learn to _avoid_ bladed weapons?”

“But I do!” Mr Luffy objected. “I dodge those all the time!”

“Except when you don’t,” the other pointed out.

Brook could hear no reply to this. He started to try to walk through a cluster of thorny bushes instead, telling himself they wouldn’t _really_ hurt him, as he had no skin for that. Right now, he had just decided he’d rejoin his comrades, but without crying out first – if he was wrong and the Marine group to the left truly hadn’t spotted them, it might be better not to let them know he was there. Most likely they’d be no match for Mr Luffy, but 'most likely' didn’t cover all circumstances, and he rather thought his captain needed to save his strength for later.

After an entanglement with a rather hostile bat, Brook heard Usopp’s voice again, coming from further away. They’d started to move again, evidently. Faced with the sheer intransigence of those thorn-bushes, he had to change his trajectory again, running parallel to them once more while trying to peek at the hidden Marines to the left.

“So he was that guy with the whistle, huh.... Seems like the bastard could just make monsters appear on his command. And he hid among his own troops as well.”

“Yep,” said Luffy tensely.

Usopp went on, “I guess maybe we should try to separate him from the rest or else he’ll just hide among his soldiers again. Uh... how are we going to do that... maybe we could sneak around and start a rock slide?”

“Okay,” said Luffy. “I’m gonna try to punch him in the face and smash his whistle, too, but if I can’t right away, you should hit it.”

“I – yeah, you’re right. I should do that.” There was a short pause in which Brook had to stave off an angry porcupine, which had dropped onto his afro from an overhead branch. “Uh. He’s pretty powerful, yeah?”

“It’ll be okay!”

By now, Brook had practically fallen into a rhythm of looking to his left and right while listening to both places, trying to keep track and calculate. But at the same time, he’d almost forgotten he was actually eavesdropping on his crewmates: their talk was almost like a story to him, now.

After a few minutes when nothing was said much and everyone was busy trying to make their way through the small jungle, Brook heard Mr Usopp’s voice again. It was closer now but in a lower tone than before, sounding thoughtful.

“Luffy... maybe you shouldn’t....”

“Huh?”

“...Those guys who attacked me just now.... I could have handled them myself. I just panicked. Shouldn’t have cried out so much. If I do that again, maybe you should just ignore it.”

Brook slowed down, noting absentmindedly sounds of explosions further away.

“...No.” Luffy’s voice was short and terse.

“Oi! I didn’t mean if I _really_ need help!” Usopp protested, raising his voice. “But you shouldn’t – ” He faltered and stopped talking for a moment. Did he stop moving, too? When he next spoke, his voice had fallen down to where Brook almost couldn’t catch it; “You shouldn’t come running and get yourself cut up just ‘cause I get a little scared. I can’t – I can’t get stronger if I always get help, when it’s like that. – Hey, don’t just walk away like that!”

“We’ve gotta get back to meet the others,” Luffy said in the same tone as before.

“I know that, but – listen – Luffy, sometimes I need to _not_ be protected, okay?”

Usopp's voice kept talking, but to Brook what he next said was drowned out by the noise of another, bigger explosion that sent Brook rocking to his feet. When he next turned around in confusion, he couldn’t see any sign of the Marine group any more.

“But that’s not - !” Luffy cried out, then cut himself off. “There’s no point in being the Pirate King if you guys aren’t with me!” he went on.

“But don’t you see?” Usopp’s voice was tired, pleading. “Of course a captain’s gotta take care of his crew, but you gotta let us take care of you, too! You usually _get_ that.... We want to be good enough to shine beside you!”

“That’s just dumb!” said Luffy, almost angrily. “You already are!”

“Well – still – better!” exclaimed Usopp. “And – and sometimes I’m too, I dunno, I forget what I actually can do, and... I mean,” he paused, as if taking a deep breath, “we might be going to Elbaf soon, and before that, I – I want to get stronger.”

It was right about then that Brook finally saw the trees thin out in front of him, and saw the meeting-point clearly, less than one hundred metres away. But he still couldn’t see the Marines. Perhaps that explosion had signalled a distraction in some manner?

The growth to his right thinned out as well, and the next thing he knew, his crewmates were clearly visible just ten metres away, calling out his name in surprise and relief. He hailed them with his swordcane. “Ahoy! Are you in good health?” They seemed so, from what he could tell. Mr Luffy did have a fresh bandage on one arm, but his eyes and his skin looked all right, while Mr Usopp just seemed a little bruised. They raced the final short bit together to the hill, finding Miss Robin, Mr Sanji and Mr Franky already there, waiting for them.

*

“And that is all,” finished Brook, looking down as he spun his swordcane slowly.

“Ah,” said Zoro. There was an odd weight to that single brief sound.

“Mm.” Brook was looking out towards the sea again, noting that the shadows had moved. “Oh dear, I do think I prefer sitting in the shade right now, no offense, Mr Sun,” he mumbled, getting up from his seat and, rather than sitting further away on the bench, instead chose a shaded spot on the lawn. He brought the violin with him. “So, er, I simply... I simply had a wish to share that, Mr Zoro,” he added, “even though I don’t suppose it’s very...” He couldn’t find the right word, so he trailed off.

“No. It’s a good thing you told someone.” Zoro sounded quite definite on this. After a long pause where Brook thought he wouldn’t say anything more, he nevertheless went on to add quietly, “It makes good sense. I was talking to the cook last week, and... it fits. With Luffy.” His voice grew hoarse at the end: he coughed to clear his throat, then said, “I don’t know what will happen at the island either.”

“I suppose... we shall simply have to be prepared for everything,” said Brook mildly. He grabbed his violin once more.

Starting on a lullaby remembered from childhood, this time he played it through straight to the end, the small, simple melody staying in his head and not escaping as all the others seemed to do these days. Around them, the shadows grew longer and the air grew slightly cooler, until Mr Sanji stuck out his head from the galley and yelled that dinner was ready.

 

***

They saw the island early in the morning, getting close to it around noon. Against their expectations, as they came closer to the place they spotted fewer seakings, not more, and the final miles were sailed in peace. 

This time around, they circled Turnweed Isle first before making a landing, spying on it with binoculars. None of them could see any sign of humans. There was much evidence of destruction– trees split and torn apart, rocks that had been thrown around, many piles of rock and stones from slides; holes in the ground everywhere – and most obviously, a fire had raged across a lot of the island, taking away many trees and leaving ash and dead, sooty skeletons. That seemed to be primarily on the external areas close to the shores, though. On the inner parts of the island, there still seemed to be plenty of thick, green vegetation.

They did see, in one bay, several wrecked and burnt-out ships – some were still in the water, some tossed up on land. That must have been the Marine ships the deserters had told them about, set on fire by the retreating officers to prevent their rebellious men from leaving.

Nami stared with the others at the burnt ships for a while, then suggested tentatively that they land right next to where they were. The others listened to her argument and agreed - her reason being that if there still were Marines on the island after all, they'd probably be close to the old base. And in that case, the Strawhats would be able to confront them right away, getting it over with.

Thus they set their course and sailed closer, the ship slow in the calm, nearly windless sea. But deep within the green heart of the island, too far, still and hidden for any roving binoculars to find them, two pairs of eyes may have been watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: I know, the circumstances of Brook’s eavesdropping are rather contorted. It was the best I was able to come up with...


	9. Arrival

Absence, Chapter 9: Arrival

 

Luffy looked down at the crew from the crow's nest, shivering despite the hot weather. He saw them wandering around, looking over their packs, picking things up and locking the doors of the ship; talking in low tones and in small gestures. Franky was already standing over by the helm where he could activate the Docking System. They were going to cross over in that small ship, going back and forth several times until they'd all made land. Sometimes one of them would look up towards him, then turn away again.

They probably weren't sure if he was going to come with them or not.

He knew they thought he didn't understand. That it was no use trying to explain to him.

But Luffy _did_ understand. He understood very well that there was a great, gaping abyss inside him, something he'd tried hard for days, weeks, ages not to fall into, scrambling and running. He knew that the darkness had come from this island, and that if he got ashore, he probably wouldn't be able to escape it.

And he also understood that his crewmates were trying to push him into that very abyss. He didn't understand _why_ they would want to do that; but maybe the why didn't even matter much, in the end. Not when they wouldn't listen to him.

A captain that nobody listened to wasn't really a captain at all. Maybe he wasn't even anyone.

He didn't have to go ashore with the others, though. They couldn't make him, could they? He could stay on board and protect the ship. It wasn't right to leave Sunny unguarded...

There was a deep hole right there, when he thought _we need to protect the ship_ ; with an acid taste in his mouth, he shook his head violently, trying to force his mind back.

He hugged his shaking knees and bit his knuckles until the darkness pulled back, but not all the way back - it was still closer than before. His stomach was burning - maybe he would have to throw up soon.

They were all going to the island and he couldn't stop them. Even if he could have knocked all of them out at once (and he probably wouldn't be able to), that wouldn't make them change their minds once they woke up. And maybe they would all fall into that same dark abyss and then he'd be all alone, like on Sabaody; and nothing would matter anymore.

Shifting position and stretching out his legs, his toe pushed against a hard, flat object lying in a cobwebbed corner. Luffy took up whatever it was and tilted his head as he looked at it. He blinked, then squatted down on the floor to see if there were any more things of the same kind around, but couldn't find any.

_It's mine. I should have this._

He got up again without bothering to dust himself off and shoved the object deep into his pocket. Then he opened the hatch and started to climb down.

 

*

The sudden movement made Nami look up, then flinch as Luffy landed on the deck not far from where she was standing.

She had just finished adjusting her pack and was waiting with the others on the lawn deck for Franky to bring out the Mini-Merry. They'd take turns crossing over in it.

Everyone carried one backpack, with standard provisions for exploring an island. Quite possibly they wouldn't have much of an appetite over there; but they had no idea how long it would all take and Sanji had felt it was best to be careful. For the same reason, Brook and Franky were carrying blankets as well, just in case they couldn't get back to the ship before dark. In addition, there was a white sheet rolled up tightly in Zoro's pack, Nami knew; and both Sanji and Franky carried a spade strapped to their packs.

Though she wasn't sure if Franky was coming. He had been the most outwardly restless of them during these morning hours, walking up and down, back and forth all over the ship, now and then setting up what he claimed were traps to attack any intruder; now and then disabling them again, muttering about flaws. He would put down his pack and even start to unpack it, then abruptly shoulder it again before disappearing into the depths of the ship, checking up and tinkering and who-knew-what... he'd also seemed a lot clumsier than normal, tripping and bumping into things. Nerves, maybe? Nami wanted him to go with the rest of them, but at the same time, she didn't want to leave Sunny alone either. So she had no solution to offer. The more important thing was getting Luffy to come along with them. But would he?

Her fingers were trembling again, and yet she didn't feel as nervous as she'd thought she'd be. Not really numb, either. Just - a little off, a little floating on the surface of things, half in the daze of the dream she'd had woken up from this morning, though she could barely remember it now. Only a persistent sense of there being someone very, very close by who kept reaching for her; who kept calling her, but so quietly it could hardly be heard at all.

And she had a feeling she'd tried to reach back, in the dream, groping and fumbling in a fuzzy white light. She'd stood in a narrow white hallway somewhere she didn't recognise. Had there been secret passages behind the walls, mystery panels she hadn't known how to open?

She ought to have known: she was the mapmaker. She was accountable. The hand she couldn't reach, the voice she could neither hear clearly nor manage to answer - they had both been entirely, utterly close. Too close.

But anyway. She shook her head trying to clear it, still watching Luffy warily. At that moment, Franky turned the lever, cogs and wheels rumbled within the ship's Docking System and the big hatch opened below, Mini-Merry sliding out onto the waves.

"Don't go there," said Luffy tensely, immediately stopping all movement in the crew. He was standing ramrod straight and looking at all of them intensely. "Stay here. Don't GO there, guys!" he repeated, trembling now.

Nami exchanged looks with the others, opened her mouth to speak, but Sanji was faster.

"We have to, Luffy," he said, not unkindly, bending down to take up his pack, then walked over to the railing. "It's time."

"Right," said Nami, and the others assented, or at least nodded.

Luffy turned around, his back to them. He crossed his arms. "Are you going to leave Sunny alone?" he demanded, his voice sounding both harsh and brittle.

"Ah... Well... That's..." Nami started, then fell silent, not knowing what to say. Yes, it did make sense for one or two of them to stay behind and guard the ship... but it didn't feel right. They should all come ashore, she felt very clearly.

"I could stay..." Robin offered now.

Franky waved this aside with a wide gesture, then swooped his hand towards the Mini-Merry. "Nah. If anyone should stay, it should be me. Not you, babe." He sat down on the top of the staircase leading from the helm towards lawn deck, scratching his chest and looking at his captain.

"I already thought about it, Strawhat," he continued. "This way and that, all through the morning. And you know what? Each time I'd decided I'd stay, I'd freaking trip over something, or bump into things, or bust up stuff... I swear, half the time it felt like the ship was tripping me up on purpose!" He sighed, stretched his long mecha arms and then patted the wood next to him. "I don't think Sunny wants me to stay," he said simply. "Think she wants me to go over to the island with the rest of us. But if you say the word, I'll stay."

Luffy looked up at Franky, his face unreadable.

Chopper cleared his throat, then said cautiously, "Luffy... what do you want to do? Do you want Franky to stay here? Or... d-do you want to stay here and guard the ship? Instead of coming with us?" He leaned his head to the side, watching Luffy carefully and taking a small step towards the railing.

Luffy gave him a wild, hard, oddly stiff look, but first said nothing as he walked over to the railing to look at Mini-Merry. Standing there for half a minute, his face softened somewhat, not into warmth but to uncertainty.

He drew one hand along the railing, slowly back and forth.

"I... if you guys are gonna..." he started, then closed his eyes and shook his head quickly, several times. Then he stopped, opened his eyes again, and looked down at the Mini-Merry a second time wonderingly.

A moment later, he pulled down his hat and backed away from the railing. "I'm not going in that one," he mumbled. "I can't." Raising his voice, he went on to say, "I'll see you over there." Then he stretched both his arms wide until he'd grabbed two trees over on the other side, before slingshotting himself over.

Well. All right then, thought Nami.

The rest of the crew divided themselves into groups to cross back and forth on Mini-Merry. When everyone had come ashore, they dragged the small boat up on land and hid her behind lots of rubble and tree branches. Nami looked at the simplified map she had over the island and pointed out the mountain where the poneglyphs were supposed to be, in case they needed a reminder of the lay of the land from this vantage point.

From there, they'd walk the same way they'd come, last time, to the small bay on the opposite side of the island where they'd made land then.

That's where they would start searching in earnest.

"You were right." Luffy's voice was toneless, his face stiff and immobile. He wasn't looking at anybody.

"Eh? Mr Luffy?" said Brook, spinning around and putting his skull to the side questioningly. The others all paused, listening closely.

"You guys were right. This is just a normal island. Nothing weird here."

"Er... I'm not quite sure that's what we were saying," said Brook diffidently, scratching his afro.

"Let's go find the poneglyphs," Luffy went on tersely, and marched off. The others glanced at each other, then took deep breaths and followed.

They walked through the wreckage of the Marine camp, neither hurrying nor with particular caution, past the heaps of torn-up canvas and poles showing where there'd been tents before, the burned-down remains of officer cabins, the trenches and cooking holes, the pitiful remnants of fences… They noted, but took care not to look too closely at the big pile to the right of ashes and bones, where someone had strewn flowers weeks ago, long withered since.

It must have been there they had burned the bodies of their fallen comrades, those former Marines who were now travelling the perilous sea with the Strawhats' log pose. And perhaps they had cremated the officers they'd rebelled against as well, for the small group didn't encounter any stray corpses in Marine uniforms anywhere as they traversed the camp grounds.

The pirates walked on without stopping to search for anything of value in the piles of destruction, though some of them filed away the thought that they might have to do so later, if they could stomach it. But not now.

They found the path that the ex-Marines had told Nami about, a well-trodden one that lead into the densely grown forests of the island, out of sight from the ocean. It would take them towards the mountain where the poneglyphs were, in the island's centre.

Luffy looked back, still with little expression, his face pale and gaunt, then he turned around and started walking. And the Strawhat pirates followed him into the jungle, all seven of them.

 

*

Luffy only registers the woods around him vaguely, as shadowy things of little consequence. For every other step he sees somewhere else -

He's in the forest of his childhood, on the Corbo mountain - first running alone, trying and failing to keep up with Ace; then running and fighting and hunting with Ace and Sabo, doing everything together; then, for years, running or walking with Ace, or alone, until he couldn't get lost in the depth of those woods if he wanted to.

And then he's in in some other forest, running in a great hurry among the many trees, trying to find the right place before the bad guys will land - what bad guys? He's not sure, but they seem to have something to do with the man from his dream the other night, the bastard with shiny black hair and glasses. Time is running out, and no matter how much he wants to think this forest is the same as the first, he knows it can't be. Otherwise he wouldn't get lost. _But it should be the same, it should be, I want it to be_ a part of him insists - but he can feel Going Merry looking at him and he can't turn it away any longer: it's not the same forest, not the same island. He knows Merry can't have come from his home island. And now he has the feeling there are a bunch of kids watching him from behind the trees, always hiding when he turns his gaze to them.

He clenches his teeth and breathes in heavily, registering the smells around him. Those smells make him sick, he hates this place - but being sick that way is better, still better than these images in his head, the hole in his chest that just keeps hurting -

Trembling, he digs his nails into his fists and keeps walking.

*

Chopper walks with the others, trotting in Walk Point right behind Nami and Luffy, trying to pay vigorous attention to his surroundings with eyes, ears and nose. But he finds himself looking down on the ground a lot.

He wonders when the storm of emotions and memories will hit him for real. So far, inside him there's just the same mix of emotions he's felt on the ship since last night: nervous anticipation, fear, hope and determination, with the dull dark hole of _he's gone_ underneath it all. Maybe the hot air and the sharp smells of the plants and the soil all around him have increased his nervousness a bit, but that's the only difference.

But... Something is different about the island, though. It takes several minutes of walking before he realises it.

It's still warm and stuffy, but not to the same extent it had been; and the smells, though still strong, aren't as overpowering as he remembers. He breathes in carefully. Yes, there is a certain tinge of fresh coolness in the air, compared to how it was before. He supposes it's due to the weather shifting to autumn, even if it seems a little early for that on a hot Summer Island. But that's the Grand Line for you. Nami would probably know - but Chopper isn't going to bother her for a small question like that.

Whatever the cause is, he feels grateful for the change. Every little bit helps, and if the air had still been as hot and oppressive as last time, it would have made it that much harder to walk this path.

 _...We can't just let him_ lie _there._ Nami's words from the crew council echo in his mind, but so does Robin's bleak statement, _There may be nothing left to bury_. He shivers, clenching his teeth. He's here because he thinks Nami's right, because they have to at least try to find the remains, because it's what _he_ would have wanted to do - but still...

_I don't want us to find anything. I don't want to know for sure._

Except... except he does, too. He knows damn well they couldn't have kept sailing the way they were. And not only because of Luffy's mind-wall. They needed to return here: they can't go on not knowing, not having even tried to learn the truth.

He can smell spices in the air, and more promisingly, herbs he can recognise as medicine ingredients. But that smell also feels heavy, now, reminding him of their first trek on the island. Back then, Chopper had been happy and excited, stopping to gather some of them up, and looking forward to pick more on the walk back. Instead they'd been ambushed.

This time, he realises glumly, unless they'll need to get away from here in a hurry again, he should try to gather as many herbs as he can, later. It would be very irresponsible not to. They could serve to make medicine his crewmates might need.

Tears well up again without warning, obscuring the path. He transforms into Brain Point to wipe them off, not looking at anyone, trying to keep his sniffling down. Well, the herb picking ought to be done. And he will do it. But he doesn't think he can do it gladly.

He can picture Nami, Sanji and Robin saying to him, _He'd want you to gather them, you're the doctor. And he'd want you to be happy about it._ And they'd be right, Chopper knows. But the warmth of their smiles wouldn't reach the tired sadness of their eyes, as they'd say it. And it's not enough, thinking of it that way. It just isn't. It doesn't help.

 

*

Despite the heat, despite the heavy smells of spices in the damp air, despite the buzzing insects and the occasional large animal lumbering across their path, or the birds that zoom past above them, Sanji feels like this isn't quite real. The feeling has grown stronger since they made land here, but it's been there the whole day, ever since he awoke at dawn after a troubled sleep of confusing, fumbling dreams.

Are they really walking here now, the whole (but _not_ whole) crew? Is the wild overgrown forest truly all around them; or is it just a delusion?

Or, he thinks twenty paces later, maybe this is what's real, them walking here like this, and it's the weeks they've been sailing since they left this place that's a lie. They haven't really been sailing all that time with just eight people; they didn't actually commit a kind of low-key mutiny; and they don't really have a captain who forgets so much and thinks he's two people now - right?

 

*

There is, perhaps, a certain relief in getting here, finally. And to be away from the ship with its burden of memories. But that relief is still like a tiny puddle of water in the midst of a thousand acres of dry, arid moorland. It does very little.

Still, Zoro thinks, this isn't so hard. All he has to do is put one foot in front of the other, walking steadily on the rough forest path. To pay close attention to your crewmates and the environment, the uneven ground and the overcast sky, the dense woods and marshes all around them - to watch closely, and to listen even closer, listen with more than just your ears. Be ready for anything.

The trick is to pay attention enough to always stay in the now - in this walk, on this day. To only see the trees and the leaves and the sky all around them - not the ones he saw back _then_. To only hear the trampling of eight people on a forest path, the _whoosh_ of a sudden wind; the far-off call of a bird; the croak of a toad in the ditch as he walks past, splashing it; the steps of his crewmates and his captain's breathing, growing more ragged almost with every step. And to _not_ hear the cries and clangs and explosions of a great battle all around him.

The noises he's trying to push away isn't from just the one battle here, either. The sounds in his head are from all the other battles they'd been through as well, from a small backwater island in East Blue all the way here to the New World. So many times they'd nearly all been lost...

Maybe it wouldn't be all that bad, if he let those echoes wash over him. It takes energy to hold them back, and he's so damned tired...

No. He can't allow himself that. He can't afford the great weight pushing him down now, the luxury of pain. People are depending on him. Luffy's not just oblivious anymore; he's getting ever closer to a breakdown. Nami can't carry it all by herself. Zoro has to be steady and hold on.

Besides, he thinks, a sudden sharp, dark twist like a sword into his stomach, it's not like he deserves to be the one to let go and collapse. He failed. He'd been busy with his own battle back then, not seeing where he should be, not realising what was going on. He should have been able to stop it from happening. Should have. What the hell was it worth becoming the greatest swordsman in the world, if you can't even protect your friends when they need it?

He swallows, realises it's not just Luffy's breathing he can hear this time, but his own as well.

 _Never mind. Stop thinking. Just go._ They'll get there eventually. They will.

 

*

For Luffy, the ground doesn't seem as solid anymore, it's like there are spots in it that aren't earth or stone but cloud, cloud that's mostly strong enough to walk on but could turn loose any second, something you drown in like water – or else, just letting him fall, many many thousands of meters down, and he can see the gaps below him, the abyss of air and sky and a sea that will smash him, if he falls in.

Then Merry is there again in his head, flying, flying in a storm, the sail filling out, Nami calling out, everyone happy -

But there are gaps in the path beneath his feet and he can't get to that other place anymore -

_'– It's not like this is hell– '_

A sharp flash of pain. And he stumbles, grabbing at a big thorn bush to support himself , the thorns pricking him with a sting he hardly feels.

Someone stops by his side. It's Chopper in Heavy Point, he sees, though his view is fuzzy at first.

"Luffy?" Chopper sounds worried, reaching out with a steadying arm. "Are you all right?"

The support is needed for a second or two, but once he's regained his balance, he pushes Chopper away, though not roughly.

"Don't call me that," he mumbles, then realises that wasn't something he should have said out loud. He quickly grins widely and takes a tentative step forward, then another. "S-sorry, Chopper! Never mind, I'm all right!" he asserts. "Everything's fine!" Smiling feels like slogging through hard mud. But he manages to get going again, straightening up and walking again on the forest path in this place he hates. Chopper is mumbling something. Luffy tries hard not to listen.

 

*

_Damn it. There's just nothing dangerous happening._

Franky knows he shouldn't be surprised. Hadn't he said as much to Chopper the other day on the ship – that it wouldn't be physical danger that was the real threat, here? The faces of his crewmates all mirror his apprehensions, too, as everyone is careful to give Luffy his space, to match their pace to his increasingly slow and faltering step, to only occasionally glance over at his pale, sweaty face from the corner of their eyes – Luffy wasn't in the lead any more – but mostly keeping their eyes at the uneven ground they're walking on.

The only great beasts they've seen so far are a snappish giant turtle and a large mamba, the latter swimming in a slow, placid stream crossing the path. Nothing else. No human enemies, no convenient interruptions...

It's excruciating. Not the least because nobody's _saying_ anything, the silence enveloping them in a tense, itchy way that weighs him down. That lets his thoughts be too loud instead, his memories far too pushy and vivid.

After a while it's almost as if he's alone on the path, lost in this green world, his gaze blank and unfocused. His body's walking here, but his mind is far away, back in the islands they've sailed through, back in the fights they've had, back in the streets and canals at home... A part of him realises he's hiding, but it's hard not to, here. His own breath starts to become heavier, just like Strawhat's, and his hands curl into tight fists on their own.

 _I don't wanna be here._ And yet his stomach curls even more at the thought of returning to the ship the same way they came, of continuing to sail with that emptiness, that broken, crippled feeling wearing them down. It must have been hard for Sunny, too, he thinks suddenly. No wonder it felt like Sunny was pushing him to go ashore, earlier.

The path is crossed by another creek. This one is wider and faster than the earlier one, but there are rocks in the middle they can jump on. Many of the trees nearby have been smashed up, even torn apart. There are bullets and torn-off pieces of cloth and metal armour on the ground, but no bodies. Sanji walks down to the edge of the creek and starts filling up some canteens with water.

"Just in case," he mutters. "Though I guess we should boil it first... Hm." He puts his head to the side and eyes the water below him with a thoughtful frown, takes a deep breath, and takes a sip from it.

"Huh. It seems pretty fresh, actually," he judges. "A lot better than any of the water around here did, last time."

Franky shrugs as he crouches down beside Eyebrow-bro and helps him fill the canteen, pausing to drink from it himself. The taste isn't bad, just a little muddy. "Well, it's a mountain stream, right? They're usually cool. Still," he concedes, "air does seem fresher too, now that you say it." He scratches his stomach pensively. "Less stuffy and all."

Sanji nods, with that one distant look back on his face - the one they all seem to get, every now and then. Then he and Franky get back up and cross the creek rock by rock, the others waiting for them further ahead.

A flock of huge tropical birds suddenly rises from a clump of small trees next to the path. The birds pass over them, crying out something that almost but not quite sounds like words. The circle the group three times before flying away, their eerie cries lingering for some time. Franky has a feeling like he might be drowning.

He shakes his head wildly and brings himself out of it for the moment. But somehow, that only hurts all the more.

The ground has started to slope upwards now, the path getting windier. It seems like they've reached the mountains in the centre.

 

*

As Robin is walking, she can't help but notice hundreds of little things on and around their trail; all the scratches and tracks, bits of clothes and wood, the many small and large signs of not one great battle but two, the latter right after the first. Even if she didn't know this already, she would have been able to conclude as much.

Using extra eyes for caution, she also sees a couple of unburied bodies in the bushes she doesn't tell the crew about, after she's confirmed they're all Marines. She notes animal tracks and bones, snake skins and anthills; old notches high up in trees signalling that people have been here years earlier. She even sees sunken stones and a bit of old timber that looks like ancient house foundations, something she'd normally find quite tantalising.

Not now, however. Robin notices all these things, because she can't turn that part of her brain off. But she wishes she could. She wishes she could walk in blissful ignorance, unmarred by this knowledge that won't shut up; unsurrounded by clues of the past, of the whispering stories. She wishes this forest was nameless, nowhere; that she was no-one, walking here.

She had a dream this night a little like that - everything fuzzy and half-unformed, with no clear outlines. But there, something seemed to want to push her out of it, something that wasn't part of herself. It felt anxious and unsettling. Like being seen when you didn't want to be.

Robin walks on, glancing at her crewmates occasionally, wishing she and they could all be nameless.

*

 

There still seems to be gaping holes in the path, but Luffy manages to walk on, willing his best to pretend they're not there, that he won't fall in, and so far he hasn't. He crosses the creek with little trouble and starts to walk up the slope.

There's a part of him that's mad at himself, because he's not alert as he should be and _this is a bad place_ and he needs to be ready to fight for his crew, even if they've all gone crazy... But that part is too overshadowed now, it keeps retreating further and further back. Even the path and the woods around him in this dark place are retreating, fading, fading –

Right hand deep in his pocket, he's clutching the small, hard round thing he found in the crow's next so hard it digs into his skin. He bites his dry lips, swallowing. Now he knows what kind of dial it is.

Suddenly he pictures a dial like this right in front of his face, too late to stop the punch – an Impact Dial, like the fat priest used on Sky Island. But he's not in the clouds now, he's somewhere on the ground where it's dark outside and a heavy wind is blowing from sea and the air smells bad of sulphur, gas and gunpowder. His fist feels heavier and more unwilling to fight than he can ever remember. And now – now his own punch comes back to him, throwing him back. But wasn't he the one who caught and released it? Why else would he have felt that this dial belonged to him, back in the crow's nest?

It doesn't fit, doesn't fit, doesn't fit –

 

*

 _Got to go on._ Nami holds the ClimaTact hard but barely notices it, her hand sweaty on its familiar wooden surface. Her hair is unkempt and, like her face and shoulders, stained with berry juice from these surrounding bushes leaning over into the path, but she doesn't feel like she has time to tidy it.

In her head is the memorised map of the island she's drawn from the ex-Marines' information, which she's now trying to match to reality as well as she can. The path is narrower here, and hasn't started to go steadily uphill yet. _Got to go on. Got to keep everyone moving. Can't stop._

A part of her is prodding at her, but weakly, in a small voice, _Weren't you supposed to stop doing that, once you got here? We've arrived. Weren't you supposed to let go?_

The thought makes her mind pause, just a bit, as she stops on the road to dig out a pebble in her shoe. To let go, huh? To stop trying to take charge, now that they've reached the island, stop risking alienating Luffy further; to step back and relax. To –

She presses her lips together, suddenly dizzy in the mottled sunlight. _No!_ No, better stay like this, even with sweat running down her hunched shoulders, with a churning knot in her stomach, with the guilt of mutiny increasing. It isn't time yet. She doesn't dare let go.  
She casts an uneasy glance at Luffy, who's picked up his pace again but keeps his head at an angle where she can't see most of his face.

_What a hypocrite I am._

 

*

This tropical island with its bright colours, warm sunlight, fascinating (if sometimes startling) wildlife, where he walks together with his seven living, breathing crewmates is very far in all details from that old drifting ghost ship in the deep, damp fogs of the Florian Triangle. Yet inside Brook's empty skull he hears and feels those old desolate winds again, making him shiver with their moaning.

But back then, he would so often try to fill the ghostly silent with desperate song and music, learning to play all the instruments on the ship that he didn't already.

Now, he's not alone, blessedly, and he shies away from breaking this silence that feels so tense and unreal. He makes an effort to keep his unsure humming in his head only. But keeping quiet like that makes him jittery and unbalanced, stepping wrong on the forest path and getting tangled into roots ever so often. Brook is so very used to humming when he doesn't know what to say.

In his mind he tries to go back to the attempted melody of a few nights ago, the lullaby-like one that he has yet to capture fully. Last night he thought he had it, hearing a lovely song reach him in his dream, though he never found out who sang it. But it faded away when he woke up.

He keeps seeing his old crew around him, remembering when they'd explored deserted jungle islands like this one. But he knows it's just his mind playing tricks with him. They are all at peace now.

"A song of silence," he mumbles to himself, not noticing he says it out loud. He pictures a violin and bow made of air, of nothingness. "That's what I should make..." The not-ghosts of his old crew seem to smile at him.

 

*

They reached the top of the path by the mountain pass in the noon hour. It was close to the highest spot on the island, a scant forty-fifty metres of a lonely peak towering above them. They all stopped for a few minutes to have a drink of water and to take in the view of the whole island from there. _Not a bad looking place from here,_ Nami thought, then felt guilty over the thought.

It wasn't hard to find their way down: the path just went on from there in a steep incline down a short grassy hill. This was almost where they'd been, before. They'd walked from the opposite direction on the spot currently below them. It was there they'd found the poneglyph rock, shortly before getting ambushed. In fact, one of the groups of Marines had come down the very path they were walking on right now.

On the way down, Luffy didn't seem to pay much attention to where he walked, stumbling momentarily. But he didn't fall, and his breathing was a little calmer now. As the ground evened out and the crew stepped off the path into the grass, he stopped and straightened up, a still but forlorn, indrawn figure.

"But... where is it?" Chopper said after a couple of moments. "I can't see the rock! Is this the wrong place after all?"

Nami frowned as well, walking over to where Chopper was standing. "I remember it being right here, too. Wait... what's this on the ground?" There were large tracks from something big dragged through the mud, going down behind a great oak lying prone, uprooted by the battle.

"It's here," said Robin calmly, popping up from behind Nami, which made Nami jump.

Robin walked past her to the other side of the oak, lifting a branch so Nami could see for herself some of the smooth grey surface of the rock, and the – to Nami – mysterious symbols written on it. "But it used to be over there," Robin went on. "It's been knocked over."

"What?" said Nami sharply. "Is it destroyed?"

Robin shook her head, smiling faintly. "They couldn't crack the stone's surface. It's close to unbreakable. So they blew up the regular layers of stone and earth at its base, instead. Just to make it a little harder to find and read, I guess."

"Huh. So much trouble to go to..." Nami trailed off. Of course, she did know that the World Government would rather have all poneglyphs destroyed, but still, she hadn't gotten the impression they would have had time for such shenanigans when they'd all been busy killing each other.

Robin stood back, dusting off her hands. "Perhaps they planned to have it buried in dirt, but events interfered..." She shrugged, then turned towards where Luffy was standing indifferently, raising her voice. "I found it."

"Oh. That's good, Robin," he answered mechanically, scuffing his foot on the ground.

Robin paused, then continued more slowly, in a very measured tone, "Captain. I would prefer to stay here by myself."

He gave her a wary look under the strawhat brim, but said nothing.

"Er, Robin, are you sure about that…" Nami began, her voice dwindling down when Robin met her gaze calmly, nodding once.

"I think it would be easier for me," Robin continued, looking back at Luffy. "Can you let me?"

Luffy looked at her quietly for several seconds, then shook his head. "I can't leave you here alone," he said firmly.

"But..."

"I'm not going to let you be here by yourself!" snapped Luffy.

There was pain in Robin's face for a fleeting moment, but then her composure returned, her features smoothing out into a mask. She turned away, crossed her arms, and said nothing.

Zoro, getting closer to where Nami was standing, was scanning their surroundings with an intent gaze.

"There's something moving around here," he said. "Or someone..."

Luffy looked over at him, at the forest around them, eyes narrowing. But then he said, "Sanji."

"Mmhm?" said Sanji from a fair bit away, hands deep in pockets.

"You can stay here with Robin, right?"

Sanji blinked, then smiled. "Oh of course! No problem!" He glanced over at Robin. "If it's not a problem for Robin-honey?"

 _He's so careful,_ thought Nami. _So cautious. He wouldn't normally be that careful. But now, it's like we're all walking on glass..._

Robin raised her eyebrows in an expression of mild surprise that was more pleased than not-pleased.

"That is acceptable," she murmured.

Normally this would have put a worshipful heart in Sanji's eye, but now he just smiled at her fondly. In a way, it was a welcome restraint, and yet it ached in Nami to see it.

Luffy just nodded. "Okay," he said simply. "You'll catch up with us later, then."

And he turned away and started walking again, his fists clenched against his sides.

 

*

Sanji watched as Luffy and the others walked away, down into the valley below and under the trees. He kept smoking his cigarette with forced slowness.

As the crew first passed out of earshot, and then out of sight, something changed for him. The cloud of unreality that had been there since this morning lifted and dissolved. The trees and rocks around him, the grass, moss and stone underneath weren't going anywhere; weren't just illusory backdrops.

They really were here, after all.

He turned towards the overturned poneglyph rock. "Guess we'd better get this out of the way," he said, waving at the branches of the fallen tree that covered it.

"You don't have to do that," said Robin quietly.

"It's fine," said Sanji, happy to help. He lifted one of the branches and tossed it away.

"Really, you don't have to, it's not necessary–" Robin said, but Sanji just bent down to pick up another branch; it was really no trouble for him.

"Sanji!" said Robin sharply. "Leave it alone!"

Sanji jumped in surprise, letting go of the branch. It fell on his foot.

"R-robin-honey...?" he asked uncertainly.

Robin had crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't want to look at them," she said bitterly. "The hateful things."

Sanji gaped at her.

Robin turned, taking a few steps away from there.

"R-Robin..." Sanji's voice was shaky, now. He was still staring at her in disbelief that he'd really heard her correctly.

After a measured pause, Robin said, her voice smoother and her face held away from him, "I understand that we would have sailed here anyway, even without those things." She waved a dismissive hand over her shoulder towards the poneglyphs. "We would still have gone exploring, would still have been ambushed." She was quiet for a moment. "And... well," her voice turned brisker, "we would also still be here again by now, I suppose. There would be one reason less to return, but in the end... We would still be at a loss for an alternative."

"I believe that, too," said Sanji quietly.

Robin's voice dropped low. "I understand all that." He heard her swallow, then she went on in a thicker voice, "I _do_ understand it. But." She took a few more steps away, still keeping her back towards Sanji, holding herself by the elbows. "I simply loathe the things. That's all." There was a faint tremble in her tone.

 _But doesn't that mean you hate yourself?_ wondered Sanji. _I thought you'd learned better, by now. That we'd taught you better._

But he couldn't say that. It would only put more of a burden on her. So would all the other useless lines his mind offered up – besides, he was sure she'd already considered the meaning in them all before.

Thus, he didn't say, _What about Ohara's legacy?_ or, _He'd hate to have you feel that way, you know_ or _So why did you stop here by the stone, then?_. Besides, when he reflected he thought he had the answer to the last one: probably so she wouldn't upset Luffy and the others by not examining the stone in front of them. But at least it was clear why she'd wanted to stay back alone.

Instead of saying any of those things, Sanji took a deep puff on his cigarette and blew out the smoke slowly, letting it form a big question mark.

"All right," he said slowly. "Shall we..." Then he stopped himself.

Robin turned back, looking composed again. "Hm? What?" she said.

Sanji sighed, rubbing his forehead with his thumb. "Never mind, Robin-honey. I mean, uh... I _was_ going to ask if we should go catch up to the others, but..."

"You don't really want to, do you?" Robin put her head to one side, looking understanding. She had just sat down on the fallen tree, her back to the poneglyph rock, in the shade of the top of the mountain.

"...Do you?"

Silence, then a small shrug. "Well. We agreed to come here," she said quietly. "I suppose we shouldn't leave all the dirty work to the others." But she made no move to get up.

"Right," he mumbled, "right, that makes sense..." And yet he sat himself down in the grass. "In a moment." When his legs felt stronger. He hadn't realised until this moment how bone-deep tired he was, as if he hadn't slept for days – no, for weeks.

And then they were both quiet for several minutes, just sitting there. Sanji close his eyes and breathed in the cigarette, but also the tropical air.

"It smells better now, here," he observed. "The air is fresher."

"True," Robin agreed. "Another thing I noted is that the inland wildlife seems calmer."

"I suppose so..." said Sanji vaguely. "You know, Robin-honey," he went on impulsively, not really knowing where he was going, "if he was here right now, I bet he'd start telling you some ridiculous shitty story to amuse you with. And ask you what you thought about something completely irrelevant, maybe show off a new invention or something. Anything to distract you with. And I'm not sure but I think you would laugh."

"Yes," said Robin, her voice thicker than before, "I think I probably would." After a brief pause, she added in a whisper, "Eventually."

"Because..." Sanji, picking distractedly at straws of grass, wasn't deliberating now, but just saying his thoughts as they came to him. There was too much in his head and he was too tired to be careful. "Because that's _his_ way. We all have our different ways. And he would do that, if he couldn't just badger you. " He heard the open pain creep into his voice, but went on regardless, "And all the time what he'd mean by that is that things aren't too bad, he knows you can sort it out, and he trusts you completely." No, he wasn't up for using the past tense right now, dammit.

"Yes..." Robin's voice sounded less distant by now. More wistful. "And if that didn't work, he'd go back to badgering me. Because dreams are important."

Sanji looked at her quickly. "They are," he said. She only nodded.

He slumped, looking down at the grass and the handful of flowers, at ladybirds and honey-bees, feeling his throat grow tighter. "They are..." he repeated, shivering in the hot sun. A sob slipped out, wouldn't be pushed down. He blinked furiously but his cheeks turned wet even so.

"Shit," he muttered, wiping his face on his sleeves. "A-anyway." What had he been going to say? "Anyway, that's not what _I_ can do, but..."

But Robin said quickly, "Maybe I don't want to find out the Lost History so much anymore."

Sanji's eyebrows rose again, but looking over at her, he found he didn't feel as alarmed by that as he might have thought. Somehow he got a clear feeling she didn't really mean this part. She just needed to say it.

"Maybe I don't want to find All Blue," he replied. There was an odd relief in saying that, even though he knew he didn't truly mean it either. 

Robin said, more slowly and thoughtfully, "Maybe we won't get to do either of those things, anyway. If our captain gives up on his own dream."

Sanji looked up at her sharply. "You think he'd do that?"

"He might well," said Robin, meeting his worried gaze steadily. "I don't consider it out of the question. Do you?"

 _Once he remembers._ And it couldn't be long now - might already have happened, in the green jungle below them. Sanji swallowed. "Shit. He might just." That thought had ran through his mind before, truth be told. Staring at the ground, he swore a little more, under his breath. "Dammit. That would piss Longnose off so badly," he muttered bleakly.

"Sanji?"

"Yes, Robin?" he said, his voice a little softer again.

"There's someone here."

 

*

Are they going down to the ship again? Luffy doesn't ask, doesn't stop to reflect or look around, his feet just go on mechanically. _This was the way we came._

He's not completely out of it or disoriented; he knows they came up on the other side of the mountain just now. But that... that was the wrong way, not the way they'd come before. Last time. And there's something in him that desperately wants this to be the only way they came. That they only dreamed they were sailing on after this island, that they've been here all this time - no, not all this time, that they're back in the same day and there never was an ambush, they weren't baited or betrayed, the island not a hostile place -

Nami's eyes turn up in his memory all dark and serious and not backing down. _' Why do_ you _say it’s a bad place? You’re the one insisting everything was just fine, that nothing really bad happened! You're not the one to talk!'_.

Luffy swallowed. He was right and he was wrong and everything was wrong and he didn't know anything anymore, except the abyss opening in front of him was bigger and bigger and he couldn't outrun it anymore.

One foot before the other. One more. Ignore the stubborn feeling he's being watched by someone not in the crew, because every time he looks up, there's nothing there. Ignore all the smells and the gaps under his feet and everything, everything...

And then he hears again that voice, the one he wants to think is his own, _Sometimes I need to_ not _be protected, okay?_

and, _Once there's five of us, we'll head for the Grand Line!_

and, _... stop looking like you're dead! Stop breaking our hearts here, dammit!_

Then there's a warm arm across his shoulder, the sense of someone else close by smiling with him, and it _could_ be anyone in the crew, or it could be Ace or a couple of other people, but he knows it isn't, it doesn't fit, just like the voice in the dream of the gray nowhere-place. He stops in his tracks, doesn't notice if his crewmates are curious or not; he tries wrapping his arms around himself, but no matter how he hard he tries to pretend, he can't have four arms. He just _can't_. Nor does he have another shoulder he can lean his own arm on, as it should be –

And now he's on the ground, grabbing hold of the grass and panting heavily.

"It's all right, it's all right, I'm here," he mumbles, sweat rolling down his temples. "I'm here, I'm here, everybody's here, it's fine, it's ALL RIGHT!" His voice rises in a yell. (But under him, he can feel the dry grass and soil shifting, spreading out, getting thinner, holes opening up – )

"Luffy."

"Hey, Luffy..."

That's Zoro and Chopper, he registers vaguely. Luffy's head shoots up again, and in the next second, he's jumped to his feet.

"It's all right," he repeats in a softer tone. His face is tense and set again, even whiter than before: his body is shaking. "Let's hurry up."

 

*

Sanji jumped to his feet, spun around and quickly moved in front of Robin, facing the direction she was looking in. He saw a man standing under the trees, right where the edge of the forest met the mountainside. Still too far to make out his features or even much of his clothing, the man was looking straight at them. Having lit a new cigarette, Sanji put his hands in his pockets and eyed the newcomer closely, waiting for him to make the first move.

The man started to walk towards them at a slow pace. After he'd taken a few steps, Sanji narrowed his eyes and felt something cold, hard and sharp in his stomach. It was the man's clothes, not his features - still too far away to see clearly - that had jostled his memory. Not that there was anything very distinct about the grey-brown skirt, the grey-green trousers, the high brown boots and the faded blue belt; no, it was only that precise combination as worn on a man of medium height and short black hair that did it.

It had only been a few weeks, after all.

One more step, and then Robin said, quietly but without any doubt in her voice, "It is that man."

That was all the catalyst Sanji needed. He was off and running, not even slowing down at the point where he recognised the other man clearly and undeniably, but reached him in four seconds. The shithead didn't even have time to cry out or try to shield himself before Sanji had kicked him clear across the field, right into an alder tree. The tree swayed back and forth from the impact. Sanji put out his cigarette with his fingers, then stalked over to the tree. The man – still conscious, as Sanji had intended, which was why he'd held back a lot while kicking – was groaning and trying to sit up as Sanji hauled him upright by the collar, pushing him towards the tree's trunk. Robin walked up towards the two of them at a calmer pace.

Because this was the man – skinny, sinewy, maybe in his late thirties or early forties; with lines in his face as if he'd been kicked around by life a lot – that they had picked up in a rowboat hours before they even made land here the first time. The one who'd talked to them about medicinal herbs and poneglyphs, mumbled vaguely about dangerous animals without giving any kind of details; who'd appeared friendly and grateful and somewhat piteous, yet stubborn and cheerful enough to seem likable. Who had completely failed to mention a special battalion of expendable Marine soldiers lying hidden on the island, not to mention the size, strength, quantity and mean intelligence of the local Seakings.

And who had also vanished completely from the moment they were ambushed.

"What the _hell_ are you still doing here, asshole?" snarled Sanji

"I–I live here…" the man managed weakly, drawing for breath despite Sanji's firm grip.

" _Live_ here? In this godforsaken place?" Disbelievingly, Sanji pressed his thumb a little harder on the man's throat. "Tch. Serves you right, if so. Why didn't you stay out of our sight then, worm? How fucking stupid _are_ you?"

"L-look, I came out here," wheezed the other man, "I'm not armed or anything–" He twitched as if trying to put his arms up, not that he could when pinned against the tree like this. Nor could he move his legs; Robin had already bloomed hands to help keep him firmly in place.

"So what?" spat Sanji. "Is that supposed to impress me? What, you've got some new sob story you think you can fool us with?"

"N-no–" said the man weakly, avoiding his eyes. But moments later, as Robin reached the two of them, he raised his head and his voice surged, turning frantic, "L-look, you don't understand, I'd been enslaved for five years, away from my family my people; they told me I'd be free if only I'd do this one thing for them, and then, and then my wife was careless when the Marines got here and they captured her and my d-daughter, don't you see I _had_ to? You c-could have been the nicest and most innocent people in the world and I'd still have deceived you and worse–"

"Indeed?" said Robin coolly. "And how do we know that's _not_ just another sob story, Mr. Tomasso?"

The man flinched and looked abashed, but muttered sullenly, "Th-that's not my name. That was just the slave name I was given. My real name's Ananshio."

Sanji exploded, hoisting the man up again. "Do you really think we fucking care what your shitty name is? Slave or not, why the hell do you think we'd ever be fine seeing your shitty face around, _anywhere_?" He let go of the alleged Ananshio as his face turned red from air loss, not quite trusting his own restraint. Robin quickly bloomed more arms to keep the man largely immobilised.

"W-well, I..." the man wheezed, once he'd gotten air back in his lungs. "...I guess I should have realised you'd still be too upset to listen, but... I just really need to talk to you... You guys, you..."

" _We're_ not fine talking to you," Sanji snapped. He took out his cigarette, breathed out smoke, then inhaled again. "In fact, we're hardly even fine letting you still breathe, so don't push your luck, shithead."

"Wait, Sanji." Robin held up a hand. Turned towards Ananshio, she said coldly, "The only reason we would ever listen to you is if you know where the body of our crewmate is. If you do know that, reach your point and tell us right now. If you don't, kindly disappear from here and leave us alone."

Sanji nodded in agreement.

Ananshio looked back and forth from one to the other wildly. "B-but–!" Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You pirates..." He looked up, more force in his voice now, his face more determined. "...You've made my family, my people, this whole island and the waters around it several great, _great_ services. There's nothing I don't owe you for that. _Nothing_." He drew breath again. "But," he went on in a shaky voice. "Part of what I owe you is the truth. And. And you need to be told the truth, you should be told, even if you d-don't think you want to hear it, right now."

There was a long silence.

Then Sanji cleared his throat. "Your people... What do you mean by that?" he said, voice more controlled now.

"I'm a merman," Ananshio explained, sounding slightly calmer. "Well – half anyway, they're my mother's people, but that's where I grew up... There used to be a large tribe of us in these waters. Most have left now since the slave raids kept increasing and the Seakings grew hostile to us – those who weren't killed or abducted, that is. But a handful's still here, including my wife and daughter. They stayed here all these last five years when I was a slave, instead of going somewhere safer." After a short moment, he added quietly, "And now, more can come back."

Sanji and Robin exchanged one long glance, she probably thinking the same as he did. Nami had spoken to the two of them – and to nobody else, yet – about the rumours of the merfolk that used to live near this island.

"Mr. Ananshio," said Robin finally, the honorific still clearly indicating distance rather than respect, "are you saying you belong to the tribe of local merfolk renowned for their healing abilities?"

Ananshio nodded. He seemed to find it easier to meet her gaze now. "Yeah. I do. But not all of us are skilled in healing. I'm not. The slavers were pretty disappointed in me for that." He smiled crookedly, bitterly, for just an instant. Then he added, "My wife is, though."

Sanji exhaled softly, feeling dizzy. He could have done with a tree to lean on himself, right then.

He didn't know how to proceed, and was more than a little afraid to. _Legendary healers._ And yet... looking at Ananshio's demeanour up until now, did it really look like someone bearing good news? Unless... no, Sanji couldn't guess at what the merman might possibly be playing at.

But he said nothing as Ananshio began talking again, going back to the events of that terrible day. And neither did Robin, still and silent and achingly beautiful where she stood. She didn't look as dizzy as Sanji felt; she wasn't shaking like Ananshio or faintly trembling like Sanji, but there was a certain blankness in her eyes that might mean she wasn't sure how to go on, either. And she looked far paler than usual.

Very matter-of-factly, as if determined not to make more excuses for himself, Ananshio related how he'd slipped away right after the Marines had ambushed them, just as they had suspected. He'd run down to the Marine base to free his wife and daughter, but only his wife was there. Their eight-year-old daughter had been taken to a more secret place at the heart of the island: the one where the Commander had retreated later, only for Luffy to follow him and bring him down.

"That's when the whistle was shattered," said Ananshio, his voice suddenly breaking into a harsh whisper. Sanji glanced at him in surprise. Ananshio cleared his throat, stared at the grass by his feet and went on, "For this island, that was the most important thing you did. But the most important thing you did for my family was right after that." He licked his lips and swallowed. "That's when your captain and your sniper discovered my daughter in the chaos, her arms bound so she couldn't even hop on her tail. They didn't just untie her, they also carried her to the nearest creek and told her to swim away to where it was calm." Robin had stopped restraining his arms, and now the merman looked at his hands as he turned them over and over.

"I'm not entirely sure what the Marines had planned," he said softly, "but probably they'd planned to sell her off for a high price. She'd have spent the rest of her life as some human's pet, for them to gawk at."

Robin finally moved, taking a step closer to the other two and crossing her arms. "Fine," she said briskly, fixing Ananshio steadily. "We understand. You feel a debt of gratitude to some people you've wronged. Such things happen. But _why is this important to us_ , pray tell?"

"Um, ah, w-well," stammered Ananshio, pressing himself against the tree as if trying to back away from Robin's gaze. "S-see, my wife had left for her secret hide-out, she's got a bad leg and isn't good at running, so... and I ran to the shore, the, the one where your ship was, and then as I came out of the forest I saw the King of Seakings there, and p-p-people fighting by the rock, just tiny figures, and – and in the midst of the bay there she was, my daughter..."

He stopped, too shrill-voiced and breathless to continue. Sanji looked at him grimly.

"Stop beating around the bush, shithead," he growled. "We don't need to hear all this shit. She was there, right, and _he_ fell down and maybe he fell into the water, and – then what? Enough." He poked the merman in the chest, hard enough to leave a mark. "Giving people false hope is a shitty way to repay them for favours, bastard. If it was good news you'd already have fucking told us by now." He was snarling by now, his face contorted.

He forced the rest of the words out, feeling them fall like salt stones from his mouth, heavily, bitterly. "Either you guys got to him far too late, or – or something else happened that you don't want to tell us. Like. If he survived, but there's something wrong with his brain. Which. Is. It?"

"I-I-Ah..." Ananshio licked his lips, then grabbed his face in his hands and cried out, "It's just not that simple!"

Then Robin stepped past Sanji, loosened her grip on the merman and used her own two normal hands to grab him by the collar and lift him up from the ground, tall as she was. Sometimes it was easy to forget that she was quite strong even without using her Devil Fruit power, Sanji thought admiringly. "I happen to agree," she said stiffly. "No more evasions and convoluted stories. It's clear now that you know one thing, at least. _Where is he?_ "

The air went out of the merman. "I-uh– all right," he sighed, defeated. "You win, Nico Robin. I wanted to explain more, but... I'll take you two to where he is."

 

*

The crew go on downhill on the forest path, through the hot, verdant island. Bats and canaries pass them.

Luffy isn't there. Luffy's in Alabasta, on Whiskey Peak, in Cocoyashi village, on Skypiea, in Water 7... Everything glides past him, gliding too fast, shifting, running.

"...don't..." he mumbles. "It's... it's..." He wants to say, _it's all right_ but he can't anymore, the words freeze on his tongue. "...it's what it is, but but, if I can be, if I can only be..." he babbles, not listening to himself, just needing to talk.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, I don't think so," he mumbles, and the thin thin veil remaining to him that lets him think he doesn't know _why_ he's saying no, no, no is almost torn up, so very little left. The sky is a brilliant tropical blue above him. He can't even hide in gunsmoke...

And they walk.

*

He makes it as far as the third clearing. Then he stops. The others all freeze as well, silent behind him, around him.

His left arm starts trembling, trembling, until the whole of him is shivering uncontrollably.

"...it hurts..." he mumbles, clutching his hands, formed into fists to his chest and stomach. He bends over, soon crouching. "...Hurts..." Too much, too much, his face twisting in pain. "No, no, no, no, no..." he gasps weakly. Now he sinks onto the ground, slower this time, not getting up again. _"No..."_ His fists are so tight they hurt, but it doesn't matter, that's not what's making it hard to breathe and see and think; that's a lighter kind of pain. He hugs his legs and starts rocking back and forth, letting out half-choking, half-keening wordless noises that's all he can say, all. No screams, no nothing, no words, just ragged breathing and the wordless, high-pitched, desperate sounds.

Everything, everything. All tumbling down on him, all the memories, images, sounds – too much, far too many, too varied and bright and shining and terrible – his head's not big enough to handle it, he can't take it, can't, can't...

But the road's run out for him. There's no place to hide anymore.  
Because now he has a name to the gaping absence that's causing this vicious pain inside him. A name and a face and a voice and all these tumbling, charging memories filling him up,  
finally much too strong to choke down or turn into something different.

It's Usopp.

Of course it is. Everything falls into place in his head, knocking down the false constructions, all fitting together horribly well.

It's Usopp, right there.

Who he met and fought along with and defeated that guy with the glasses for, who joined up with them so he could sail and laugh and fight and have fun; who loved the Going Merry even more than the rest of them did, who fought Luffy for real and left them and yet helped them when they were in grave trouble (and yes, it really was him with them all along; Luffy finally sees that now, feeling almost blinded by the razor-white clarity in his mind); who came back to be a part of them again. An amazing sniper, a clever inventor, a great friend; who could be very afraid and very brave and make up the best lies in the world and who knew there was no use to stuff if you weren't having fun. And like all his crewmates, he's infinitely important.

It's Usopp.

And Luffy didn't save him.

And now he's _gone_.

"Ah-ah-ah-ah…" he gasps, not able to get anything else out in between what feels like stabs to his chest.

He remembers now, all of it, the battle, the sea king, Nami's cry... the fall, the great wound, the blood. All of it.

He can't think of anything, anything, nothing. He realizes, now, why he didn't want to feel like Luffy anymore. The high-piercing noises he makes get even higher, louder, wilder; there are still no words. He can't say words.

There's movement behind him now, he registers dully. Then suddenly, Brook's voice.

"We don't all need to be here," says the musician in a low tone. "Mr Zoro, Miss Nami, you two stay here with him. The rest of us will wait for you down at the shore."

Luffy doesn't have the strength to object even if he wanted to. He doesn't even have strength left to think about it. Maybe he wants all of them gone. Maybe he needs all of them there. Maybe just Zoro and Nami is okay. He doesn't know. It doesn't matter. No.

He didn't save him.

And now he's gone.


	10. Truth

Absence, Chapter 10: Truth

 

Robin and Sanji picked up their packs, then followed the merman out of the open field. Ananshio was walking back from where he'd come, right into the forest that lay north of the mountaintop. It was at a near-right angle to the start of the path that Luffy and the others had taken, winding downwards towards south and west.

Sanji was tense and hard-faced like before. Robin felt cold, but her hands were clammy with sweat. Her legs trembled briefly as they started to walk – she was relieved Sanji didn't seem to catch it – however, she managed to steady herself within a few steps. She kept her face composed despite the dizziness she felt. Perhaps she ought to be relieved to not be quite so lacking in emotions anymore, but it was easier to default to suppressing them.

They passed from the hot sun into the shade of the trees. Up here, Robin noted that many of them were conifers. There were huge ones, but most were scrawny and they all looked quite dry, with many patches of brown needles. The undergrowth was plentiful, as usual on this island, though it seemed to give Ananshio little trouble as he made his way on a narrow path through it, keeping a fairly brisk pace.

Here they were, then, following this man on his own turf. Again. Yet, thought Robin grimly, even if the merman still wasn't honest, was there anything else to do? They couldn't verify anything simply by staying on the hillside and talk to him. If there was a trap now, too – although she truly doubted he was that good an actor – well, they would just have to deal with it. She wouldn't let her guard down. Likely it was the same with Sanji.

After a couple of minutes, Robin found herself wishing they would go slower. How illogical, considering she'd pressed the merman so much just now to come clear. But now it felt different, when they were actually walking towards the truth. Her hands clenched, nails pressed into her palms briefly. _I don't know if I'm ready for this._

Then she sighed at herself, wearily. If _she_ wasn't ready, with her dulled-down emotions, then the others would never be. No. She, and Sanji, would have to be strong and keep their wits, ready to question, observe, bear witness. That was just all there was to it.

She swallowed hard, something sharp and heavy in her chest, then quickly looked around, wanting something she could idly think about, a distraction of some kind. But the pines and thorn-bushes around her offered little of interest.

_Stories..._

An image of Usopp arose in her mind, one where he was happily leaning towards the railing, smiling and telling a long, convoluted story. The picture changed as he crossed his arms and scowled at her.

It was true, what Sanji had said – Usopp would not have been happy if he'd heard of her refusal to read the poneglyphs. But, she thought now, not just for the one reason Sanji mentioned. Not only because she was turning her back on her own dream, but also because not reading them was like interrupting a great story. Leaving it untold.

"I wonder..." she said slowly, just to make sure she was being listened to. Ananshio and Sanji both glanced over at her. "The bone whistle. Why did you find it so important?"

Ananshio looked quite surprised. He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could say anything she added, "Keep it short."

"Yeah, what she said," Sanji agreed.

"A-all right," said Ananshio, stuttering a little before he drew a long breath and slowed down his steps. "That's... easier said than done, but... I'll try." They had been walking downwards for a while now, in a winding path that curved towards the north-east. Now the ground had levelled, and the path was turning back towards the south and the mountaintop. Sprouting a few eyes to see further in the thicket, Robin noted that the ground a bit ahead of them started curving upwards again.

The trees with their long, drooping branches pressed in on them. The hot air was drier here than at any other place they'd been on this island, with a strong scent of resin: the ground was full of needles and pinecones.

"So..." Ananshio began, in a voice held low but audible, "...the whistle. It was made from one of the bones of a man – a human – who lived here on this island a long time ago. An unusual man, he was. They say he could understand and talk to animals, and that he had great powers of persuasion and peacemaking."

They were slowly going uphill again, but the trees were still thick around them, though the ground was getting craggier, filled with stones and clumps of heather and moss.

Ananshio went on, "The way I heard the story from the elders, the merfolk were at peace with the humans who lived here in his time. What was more, the man led the rest of the humans into a pact with the great animals of the island. Each party agreed they wouldn't hunt each other, and the pact would hold for as long as that man lived. It is said that the man assumed that his descendants would make a new pact after his death. But his sons and daughters were too scared that they wouldn't be able to do it, without his special gifts and personality." He frowned darkly, acridness creeping into his voice as he climbed up a steep stretch of the hillside.

"Instead of treating the beasts as equals and making a new pact with them, they carved that man's bone into a whistle and somehow – I'm not sure how, but it might be that one of them had a Devil Fruit power of some kind – somehow his children managed to bind the wills of the animals of this island and of the waters around it to the whistle. Whoever possessed it could summon and command all the great beasts at will."

"As we saw in the battle. I see," said Robin thoughtfully, slipping under a tree branch she held up for herself and for Sanji, who still kept silent as he brought up the rear. "Was it much abused, back then?"

"You'd think so," said Ananshio, "but actually no, it wasn't. Not all that much. The humans mostly kept it for protection, just _in case_ … they rarely hunted with it except during very bad times, for they were proud hunters. But then again, bad times started to come more and more often. And they fought a lot among themselves over who would get to possess and carry it. People died over that, twice. Worse…" He paused again, stopping and looking down. By now they were very high up over the rest of the island. The trees had thinned a lot, though Robin noted this part of the hillside curved inwards, rocks and vines and young trees surrounding them at both sides. This protected them from being in full sight by onlookers below. Up here the breeze was strong, though the sun still bore down on them.

Sanji handed Robin a new canteen of water before bringing one out for himself. They drank in silence.

"Worse," Ananshio went on more quietly, "was that over the years there came a change over this island. What we merfolk believe is that the forced bond of the bone whistle slowly turned into a powerful curse. The animals resented being forced to obey like that, and their resentment, their hatred, seeped into the very soil of the island. The air grew unhealthier, diseases spread, poisonous plants grew more numerous than the useful ones, and so on… The beasts grew more likely to attack humans on sight, whenever the whistle-bearer didn't compel them not to. Many humans died young, and some started to leave this place. Our people suffered too, since it got harder for us to gather herbs here – half the herbs we use in our medicines grow on land – and to barter for it from the humans.

"Huh." Sanji frowned, looking sceptical. "So, why didn't anyone get rid of the whistle before?"

Ananshio shrugged. "I asked the same when I first heard the story as a kid. But our elders told me that back then, our people weren't _sure_ it was all the whistle's fault – and we would have had no more peace with the humans at all, if we'd tried to destroy it. Anyway, about a hundred years ago the whistle vanished, and not long after that the last humans moved away from there.

"But the island remained an unfriendly, unhealthy place. I think that was because the whistle and its bond-curse still existed; and somehow the island could sense this even though no beast was commanded anymore.

"So that's what we thought," he went on as he started to climb the mountain, "but there was no proof it was true. Then the Marine Commander found the whistle by chance far away from here, three years ago. Unfortunately the man who sold it did know which island it had first come from, and the Commander wouldn't stop until he'd found out as much as he could. He was delirious with joy once he finally tested it here and could see it in action." Ananshio's mouth twisted. "Makes me wonder what kind of things he was planning later. I mean, it wouldn't have worked on animals from other places… But he could have made the seakings here follow his ship as far as he wished and kept on commanding them, easily.

"You are getting off track somewhat," said Robin evenly.

They were stooping as they passed under and through a mass of hanging vines. Behind it, the ground turned pointier and rockier. They were still surrounded by the mountain on three sides, and now the vines blocked the sun in the direction they'd come from. Above them were more hanging vines and tree branches, spreading their way across the narrow patch of daylight.

"…Uh, right," mumbled Ananshio. Then he cleared his throat and turned his head to look at the two of them; Sanji looked back with a closed expression. "You haven't felt it yourselves? The shift in the air since then, the new taste of the water... ? And the animals are much calmer, too."

"Couldn't that just be a normal shift in the weather?" said Sanji, tugging on his cigarette.

Ananshio shook his head as he brought out several torches and a small, dial-like shell from inside his jacket. "No. It's changed for real. It feels different now to how it's been all my life. Different and better." He handed the shell over to Robin. "Here, press on this spot when we go in."

"Where?" said Sanji, looking up and down the mountainside in front of them; but Ananshio just walked around the corner where he lifted up an even bigger amount of vines and revealed a small and narrow door of wood. Well-hidden, Robin had to admit. Unbidden and without saying anything, Sanji took over the torch and lit it. Robin pressed a spot on the shell that was obviously a light-dial, as the merman opened the door with little fanfare.

And then, with the small but steady light of the dial on one side and the burning torch on the other, with a man who had once betrayed them by their side, the two Strawhats stepped inside the mountain.

 

*

Perhaps Brook should have been relieved as he, Mr Franky and Mr Chopper left the small clearing behind. Perhaps he should have been wracked with worry. His captain was remembering at last, as they had wanted. And as they had feared, Luffy was in great pain as his walls broke down.

Instead all he felt was a blank dullness lying on top of the same familiar heaviness. He didn't even have a tune in his mind to distract him, now. Only crushing, inexorable sanity. He focused only on moving on down the overgrown path through the thick green forest, letting it take them towards the shore.

The forest wasn't overgrown everywhere, though: many trees were cut down and torn up by the battle, or had deep bulletholes in them. There were even some broken swords lying about. Brook wondered if this might have been where he had retreated, sprinting past enemy ranks at lightning-speed and cutting them with his sword after three of his guitar strings had snapped. It was hard to recollect it well, given how frantic he had been.

Mostly he remembered the ground rumbling and shaking in response to shocks of impact from over the beach. He had soon arrived there, only to see an unconscious Luffy, an ashen-faced Nami surrounded by stricken, incredulous crewmates, and the carcass of the greatest Sea King Brook had ever seen. _Too late, too late, all too late..._

There was a tone dial hidden in Brook's skull, and far, far away an old friend waiting for him by the Reverse Mountain, one who had kept waiting for far too long already. Those two things alone were all that kept the voice inside that kept insisting _it should have been you_ from getting any louder. And still it persisted, gnawing at him. He knew the right answer was _No, it should not have been_ _anyone_, but... he was over 80 years old and a skeleton. It was hard not to feel that the Fates had made some kind of mistake.

Suddenly, something bounced off his skull. "Ow!" he cried out, in surprise as much as hurt. "Eh?" He looked around in confusion, trying to see who had attacked him. Mr Chopper and Mr Franky immediately went on the alert, drawing closer and also straining to see who did it.

"So there _are_ enemies left after all?" said Chopper tensely.

"Where did it come from?" said Franky, but Brook could only wave in a very general direction.

"How curious," Brook opined, having bent down to pick up the ammunition. "It's only an acorn." Right then, another one sailed through the air, hitting the tree trunk next to Franky.

"Over there!" yelled Franky, pointing. "Something moved!"

They all ran off at high speed in that direction; Brook heard rustling of leaves and a splash. But when they reached a small, fast-running creek, no-one was there, nor did they see any wet footsteps on the other side of it. The party looked in all directions from there, but not even Chopper's nose could find any reliable track; eventually they gave up, walking back towards the path with the mystery unsolved. At least an assailant with acorns probably didn't have murderous intentions, unless it was a very deluded and wishful type of person.

About twenty minutes later, they had reached the shore at last and looked out at sea.

They were at the foot of the rounded, U-like bay. To their left was a low, rocky arm of the island stretching out far into the sea, at the end dissembling into a line of single rocks jutting up from the water.

To their right was the much higher rock face, through which, they knew, a tunnel ran through quite high up. The opening was hidden in sight from here, further up on the island; but it was there that Luffy and Usopp had ran, followed by Nami, all looking for a shortcut to the bay from where they'd come running in order to protect the Sunny, which had been anchored at the far end below the hill. The shore itself had been teeming with soldiers and amphibious sea monsters at the time; it must have seemed easier to avoid them by going through the tunnel. Brook didn't know if the end result would have been any different: they would still have had to fight the King of Seakings, and from an arguably worse vintage point to boot.

The sky had cleared up since this morning, just a few bumbling clouds on a brilliant blue sky. It was hot, but no longer unpleasantly so, even though there was still hardly any wind.

They stopped a few metres from the edge of the forest, looking out at the calm bay, then swerved their heads to scan the area carefully. Brook saw little but the expected view of sand, rocks and pebbles, seaweed, driftwood and clumps of dry grass, a few bushes and solitary trees; and the rest of the treeline, extending far in both directions.

He put down his pack and took out his flask of water. The other two followed his lead, Franky adding a little cola as well. They were silent as they drank, still standing in the trees' shade. Then Franky sighed, stretched and glanced down at the reindeer. "D'ya smell anything from here, Chopper?"

Chopper sniffed deeply with a set expression, then shook his head. "Nothing like that," he mumbled. There was no need to elaborate what he meant by 'that' – they all knew it had been weeks. Brook swallowed, trying to steel his ghostly stomach. "But there's a lot of scents here that might cover it up," the doctor added. "There's spices and flowers and sap from the forest, seaweed and kelp and rotten wood from the beach..." He looked thoughtful. "Maybe we should split up. I'll start on the beach and the forest edge, and you two can check on the right and left side." He pointed at the two arms of the bay.

Brook nodded. "Excellent idea, Mr Chopper," he said. "If we don't find anything, we'll return and help you with the beach, since it's by far the biggest place." And given the way sand tended to bury things quite quickly, maybe they'd need to use Franky's spade as well. Could be in vain, but they weren't here in order to give up easily.

"I'll take the left side," he decided, then saluted the other two with his cane, spun around on his heels and was off, looking closely at the ground for every step he took.

"Don't fall into the water," Franky called out, then set off in the opposite direction towards the steep cliff on the right. Brook wondered how likely it would be that a large wave would wash up a body on the ledges there and not then pull it right down into the depths again, but then again, unlikely things happened all the time. And cliffs often did have plenty of nooks and crevices they shouldn't overlook.

Over on his side, the sand thinned out in favour of pebbles and hardy grass, as he started on the narrow tongue of rock. Only a few hardy trees grew here, and the ground was quite flat and low, close to the water. Brook nevertheless didn't take anything for granted, but looked past every rock, into each small crevice, and wherever the water was shallow enough to see the bottom.

Part of him felt sick at the thought of actually finding what he was looking for, though the blankness helped to mask the feeling. Still, there was no help for it, was there? It wasn't as if he hadn't handled the dead bodies of dear crewmates before... although in his case they'd had a whole year to be little but bones already when he'd returned to them, just like his own. They had still had to wait fifty years before getting buried in homeland soil.

He was crouching down and peering into a water-filled hole several meters deep, dipping his fingers into the water absent-mindedly, when something flew through the air to hit the rock behind him and bounce into the hole with a small splash. It was another acorn. Startled, Brook lost his balance and teetered at the edge before he managed to right himself at the last moment, landing on his bony behind. Then he leaped to his feet and looked around quickly. No-one on land... but in the water?

On his left side, the one facing away from the bay, he saw widening rings on the surface, and a light flash not very deep down, as if from bright scales moving quickly in the water. Someone was swimming towards the end of the cape.

"Hoy! Kindly come out of there, whoever you may be!" called Brook, hurrying forward. He had to leap over a thin band of water as the promontory started to break up into single rocks.

As the rocks grew smaller and the water between them wider he stopped, turning here and there in indecision, trying to see or hear a sign of the acorn-shooter. Nothing.

"Oh well," he said as if to himself. "I guess I'll just go back and look all over again." As he turned, yet one more acorn hit him in the back. He swerved around to see a small person in the water on the bayside less than ten meters away, hurriedly putting away something inside a box or case worn over their shoulder, before diving back into the water. Brook blinked as a big, green tail with yellow spots propelled the figure further away.

"A mermaid...?" he said uncertainly. "Or... a merboy?"

The figure emerged again a little further away, glaring at him. "I'm a girl!"

Brook tilted his head. "My apologies," he said automatically.

Right then Mr Franky and Mr Chopper came running over the rocky outcrop to catch up to him, asking what was going on.

"I believe I have found our mysterious sniper from before," Brook told them, nodding towards the girl in the water.

It was a round-cheeked child of perhaps eight, nine, or ten years. Far from skinny though not really chubby either, she had long, brown hair divided into two ponytails with yellow ribbons. She wore a green-gray top and a small yellow scarf criss-crossed with black lines that Brook thought looked oddly familiar. Across her chest and over her shoulder was a leather strap, to which there was a thin oblong metallic box attached.

Brook noted these details in a quite distant manner. Normally, he rather liked children, and might well have spent some time prattling about various things with a young merchild. But all that felt far away right now. His initial curiosity had receded back into blankness, and he couldn't even seem to muster genuine concern that such a young one might be present to a grisly scene, if their search here bore fruit.

He took a few steps away, already looking closely at the rocky ground again. "Well," he said to his crewmates, "I suppose that solves our mystery, then – eh?" A few metres away, Franky was looking intently at the mermaid girl, scratching his chin pensively. Chopper, in Walk Point, had already jumped over to Brook's rock and hurried past him towards the spot closest to the mermaid. His eyes was burning.

"You! Where did you get that bandanna?" he shouted, pointing right at her furiously, hoof trembling.  
Startled, the girl shied away from him, then quickly ducked under the water, tail splashing.

"Eh? What bandanna – oh, do you mean her scarf?" Brook looked at Chopper, raising an eyebrow ridge. "What do you mean–"

"Don't tell me you don't remember it!!" snapped Chopper angrily, voice shaking.

"Hey hey, take it easy, bro," said Franky. He jumped over to where they were and gave Brook a serious look, lowering his voice. "See, Usopp used to wear one just like that around his head. All the time, way back when... but come to think of it, I guess he pretty much stopped right around the time when we first ran into you."

Ah. Oh. Brook opened his mouth, then snapped it again seconds later. Well. That changed things.

Chopper blinked furiously as tears threatened to fill up in his eyes."Y-yeah, but it's not like he just threw it away! He kept it with him, sometimes he'd polish glass and stuff with it! I bet – I bet he took it along in his bag to this place!"

So that's why it had looked a little familiar to Brook. That made sense, he thought, twirling his cane absent-mindedly. "Are you really sure it's the same one?" he said, but the others didn't seem to hear him.

Franky held up one large hand placatingly. "All right, doc-bro, but I think you just scared her away with your yelling. After all, she's just a kid. And a mermaid, too – she's probably scared of humans trying to capture her, y'know?"

"So what?" snapped Chopper, morphing back into Brain Point. "I don't care! She must have s-stolen it!!"

Franky lowered his tone. "Maybe. But if she did, we need to find out from where, don't we? Can't do that if she thinks we'll hurt her."

"Oh." Chopper looked a little taken aback. "Oh... right. I didn't think of that..." he admitted. "I'll be calmer."

"Plus..." Franky continued, "I guess maybe we three ain't the most... sure, I'm a super-fine cyborg, but tiny I'm not, y'know? You've got those big antlers and Brook's a living skeleton and a freaking tall one, too. No wonder she swum away..."

At that point, the young girl surfaced again, holding onto a small black rock a little further out in the water. "I– I'm not scared!" she insisted.

Chopper looked relieved. "You didn't disappear!"

"I'm not scared of you!" the girl continued. "I know you're not bad people! And I saw _you_ before." She pointed at Franky, who looked nonplussed.

"Huh? Me?"

The girl nodded, then pointed towards land. "When you were all fighting, with the Marines and the Commander and all... There's machines inside you, like you're made of them, I _saw_ that! I was a bit away but I don't think you saw me."

Franky shook his head, then sat down on the rocky ground, legs crossed. "Nope. Pretty sure I'da remembered a li'l mermaid being around back there."

She nodded matter-of-factly at this. "Th-that's because you're big and I'm small. Then it's like that. Uhh..." Her voice dropped and she looked away as she muttered, "Anyway, I'm not scared. Dad says you're all heroes. I'm just being _careful_. It's good to be careful."

Brook was looking down on his shoes, then started to walk a little further on the rock, scanning the ground again while listening to the others.

"Yeah, it is good to be careful," Franky said now. An unusual statement, coming from him; but it did seem wise to agree with the girl. "Your dad said that, huh? So, does he know us?"

The girl didn't reply; when Brook glanced behind him, he saw she was drawing away from them, on the other side of the small rock. She looked quite apprehensive.

"Um..." said Chopper, "...maybe we should say our names, just to be polite." He looked at the young mermaid, more steadily but very serious. "I'm Tonytony Chopper. You can just say Chopper."

"Franky's the name," said the cyborg. Still seated, he made a quick mini-pose that seemed quite perfunctory.

"'Soul King' Brook, also known as 'Bare Bones' Brook, at your service," said Brook, now from the next rock over. He took off his hat-crown and bowed.

Then he turned around to look at the next rock - the very last one in the row, but so small he could see at once there was nothing there, not even a puddle. "Ah, I suppose we really are done with this side, then," he mumbled to himself. Instead of going back to the others right away, he too sat down and crossed his legs, following the conversations from where he was. He tried to think up good questions to ask, even though everything still felt too blank and numb and heavy inside him.

The child looked warily at the three of them, then slowly pushed herself up to sit on the rock, her green tail showing. But she held herself stiffly, arms close to the body, and seemed ready to go back into the water at the smallest provocation. "I– I'm Nisi," she said. "I live here. Um." She looked back at Franky again. "How come you have machines inside?" she asked curiously. "Did you eat a Devil Fruit?"

Franky cracked a smile. "Nah, I'm just a cyborg. Damn good one too. My old human body got smashed up so I made myself a new," he said easily. "Now these two" – he pointed with his thumb at Brook and Chopper – "they're Devil Fruit users, though. Livin' skeleton 'n' talking reindeer, even if he looks more like a raccoon dog with antlers right now."

Miss Nisi nodded slowly with wide eyes, turning her head as she looked from one to the other. There was a pause. Mr Chopper looked like he might be pondering what next question to put. Brook scratched an itchy spot on his skull, then looked over at the shore, still all quiet and empty. It was hot in the sun.

"So you were the one shooting acorns at us up in the forest?" Chopper said at last.

Miss Nisi nodded quickly, sitting even more tensely.

"That was pretty good shooting," said Franky, which made Nisi brighten at the praise.

Franky paused, then went on, sounding like he was trying not to sound cautious, "Uh. Didja use a slingshot?"

 

*

 

"Wait." After just a few steps, Sanji stopped, making the other two halt as well. He lit a new cigarette on the torch he was holding, then looked up at Ananshio, his face showing little. "Where are we going, here?" he said evenly. "How far is this hideout you've got?"

"Down," said Ananshio. "All the way down." He pointed downwards and waved his fingers around as if to indicate a winding spiral path. "It's a cave just a little above sea level. The only other entrance is underwater."

Sanji blew out smoke and nodded. "Figured it would be something like that." He exchanged looks with Robin; she gave him the tiniest of nods and they both started to walk again. "I'm guessing this entry is so distant for secrecy reasons," Sanji continued.

Ananshio hurried to catch up with them and took the lead again, despite not carrying a light. Perhaps he had good night-sight. At one point, he knocked the wall where he passed it, listening to the sound it made. "Yes, you're right," he said, a little breathlessly. "There used to be a second entrance on land, much further down, but we blocked it up once the slave raids became more frequent. It was too risky."

They walked down in silence for several long minutes. The air was dry, but not overly stuffy, and it wasn't quite as pitch-dark around them as Robin had seen in other places like this. The rocky ground was surprisingly even, sometimes with patches of sand and earth smoothing it.

"There's light coming in from above," she observed.

"Just small cracks of it, up here," said Ananshio. "The cave itself gets light from an opening at the very top of the mountain. We had to put up a grill there to stop vultures and eagles from swooping down. That would have raised suspicions."

"Was this path made by those same builders who made the tunnel through the great rock face by the western bay?" Robin asked. She hadn't seen that one herself, only heard Nami's brief description. Not that Nami had noted much about it, in the panic of rush; she hadn't even been sure of how it had been lit up.

"We believe so," the merman replied, "maybe by those who made the poneglyphs, whoever they were. But the tunnel by the bay was discovered by humans a long time ago, so we never use it anymore. I told the Marines about it – I had to tell them _something_ – but the entrance wasn't hidden at all. They'd soon have found it anyway."

"Huh." Sanji inhaled deeply and blew out a long trail of meandering smoke; Robin said nothing.

Another long silence. They kept walking down the winding path, slowly and cautiously. Sanji's torch burned down, and Ananshio handed him a new one. The light dial still shone.

Robin found herself shivering, again; her head was warm and heavy. This time, she felt Sanji's attentive gaze on her. A moment later, he stopped again.

"Oi. Time for some more water," he said, shuffling off his pack to dig out canteens.

"I don't need to," said Robin softly, but accepted the offer anyway and drank sparingly. After a brief pause, Sanji handed the merman another canteen before drinking from his own. Ananshio mumbled "thank you" and also just drank a little bit before returning it quickly.

Sanji looked into the darkness in front of them. "So humans can't get through the other shitty entrance, right?" he said.

Ananshio wiped his mouth and answered, "They could, maybe, if they're really strong swimmers. _If_ they could find the right way, underwater. It's not that easy when no-one shows you the way." He paused, twirling his thumbs, then went on without looking at them, "When it comes to patients, we have some coated bubbles we can put around their heads. Then we carry them through if they're too weak to swim on their own. Th-though..." His voice grew thinner; he cleared his throat before going on. "...If they're unconscious, it's not always needed."

"Ah." Sanji left no further comment. Again, they walked on, down, down, down, into the darkness.

For a while now, they'd heard the sound of running water from beyond one of the walls. As they turned a corner, Ananshio swerved to the side and waved for the others to do the same. A tiny creek poured out from a narrow side passage, not filling the path but running in a lower rut beside it. Robin bent down to dip her fingers in the water, welcoming its cool touch. They walked on.

When Sanji finally spoke up again, his voice was even harsher and rougher than before.

"You've got to understand, about all that shit you just told us about that shitty whistle...?" He dumped ash, his other hand buried deep in his pocket. "I get why you'd feel you'd have a debt, but that doesn't mean it means anything to us. We didn't know a thing about all that. We fought that Commander and his men because they attacked us, that's all. He smashed the whistle to make it easier to beat that guy. It's all just a," his voice hitched a little, "a coincidence."

"True," murmured Robin. A thought struck here, and she observed quietly, "He also once knocked out a World Noble by sheer coincidence."

Sanji stared at her, then shook himself as if casting something off and went back to looking at the stone walls around him, and the ground, between glancing at Ananshio. "Uh... Anyway, what do you expect?" he said to the latter. "It's not like we'd made any friends here."

Ananshio hunched his shoulders and seemed to shrink a little. "I– I know. I just. I still thought you should know."

"Mr. Ananshio," Robin said, though not quite wishing to proceed. But she couldn't leave Sanji all on his own. "On _that_ day... Neither you nor your daughter would have had an air bubble sphere handy in the bay. Correct?"

"No," Ananshio confirmed in a low voice. "We did not."

Sanji broke in roughly, "If he was still alive then, he wouldn't have been conscious." It wasn't easy to see in the flickering torch light and dim dial light, but Robin thought he seemed to be trembling, just a little.

"Look." Ananshio stopped. His voice was firmer again, and he set his jaw and turned to look at them squarely. "There's something I should have mentioned, before this." Sanji gave him a wary look that seemed to say, _Haven't we had enough of this by now?_ , but he kept quiet. "One reason – one reason our tribe is so good at healing, is because we are quite good at... I think you people would call it 'spiritual awareness'. The best healers among us all know how to sense the state of a person's soul as well as their body. Often, they can convince and encourage the soul to stay with the body, helping it get better."

"Now, me... I'm no good with the body part of all that; I don't have the right kind of eyes and hands for it. Maybe because I'm a half-blood. But the soul part... that I can do. For instance... when I was spying on you guys before, over by the poneglyph and before the others left, I didn't have to look at you to know all eight of you were there, with no-one left at the ship. I just sensed eight souls, so I knew.

"But also... it's not just living souls, for me. Not always. Departed ones as well, those that are not at peace but still hang around in the living world. Ghosts." He paused, taking a long breath before going on, unsteadily, "That's why I'm so sure about the bone whistle's curse. There used to be a lot more old ghosts here. They started to go away, after the bone whistle was smashed, and the next day I couldn't sense them anymore. The breaking of the curse set them free, I'm sure of it."

His voice sank down. "There has always, _always_ been a very clear difference between souls with living bodies and the ghosts. It's like seeing a photograph in the newspaper or on a bounty poster, all flat and colourless, compared to meeting a person face to face. The ghosts, they're always a lot... less."

Robin looked over at Sanji. There were questions in her head she didn't want to ask, didn't truly want to find the answer to. Sanji opened his mouth but then stopped. His gaze looked hollow as he lowered his head and stared at the ground in front of him.

"It seems to me the Marines who were killed might not be at peace, either," Robin mumbled. She said it more to distract Ananshio and to stave away the oppressive silence than from genuine interest.

Ananshio nodded, clearing his throat. "Yes, that's true, there are new ghosts around. Though not as many as there could have been. I think it helped that their surviving comrades burned the bodies in a funeral of sorts, before leaving. I wonder if there's something I could do for them... In any case, it's still not half as bad as there used to be. It's only their own sense of betrayal, hatred and resentment that keep them around, not anything else binding them."

He went on, "I want to get better at reaching out and listening to souls, to find out what they need to move on. Maybe even talk to living souls who are in a bad way, even when their bodies are healthy. If I could find someone to teach me, and the time for it."

"You want to become a shaman?" asked Sanji without looking up.

Ananshio looked surprised. "That's a neat word for it. I was just thinking 'soul-doctor'."

New silence. Robin had nothing to add, and this time, Sanji didn't follow up with any more questions. Perhaps he had used up all his tough-mindedness, his sharp-edged anger, leaving only bleakness and dread.

He was walking in front of her now, his expression hidden from her view. His back looked thin and lonely, hunched over. He hugged himself, as if feeling cold. Well, he wasn't the only one. Robin couldn't stop shivering. She felt strangely vertiginous, more like she was walking thousands of metres up in the air than deep within a mountain.

Or on the Bridge of Hesitation. But that should not feel like an apt comparison, since she was walking calmly and freely of her own accord. She was not bound in seastone handcuffs, refusing to move, being kicked and dragged every step across the bridge by that Spandam idiot.

 _Although_ , she realised, _I_ would _have walked the bridge about this calmly if they hadn't come for me at the Tower of Justice. If Luffy hadn't been so stubborn, if Usopp hadn't set the World Government's flag on fire._

Strange comparison or not, either way there would be no impossibly accurate shots from atop the same tower arriving in the nick of time, now. No last-minute interruption would stop her from reaching the end of this walk.

The second torch burned down. But Sanji just let it drop to the ground and stood there, arms hanging, breathing heavily.

"Don't need to..." he gasped. "Getting lighter..."

It was true: it was getting lighter in the tunnel ahead of them, a faint gray hint of daylight.

"We're nearly there," said Ananshio quietly. He looked at the light dial that Robin still carried and nodded. "Yes, that's enough," he whispered.

Sanji didn't move, except for raising one arm to support himself against the cave wall. The only things Robin could hear were the sound of his breathing, the small mountain creek, and the loud sound of her own heartbeat.

And then also, somewhere further down in the mountain, the faint sound of somebody's footsteps.

 

*

"A slingshot? Yeah!" The young mermaid nodded brightly at Franky's question. "I made it myself, most of it at least! And I'm getting a lot better at using it, too!" Her hands went to the oblong box she carried, opening it and taking out a big slingshot. Brook tilted his head to see it better among the glitter of sunlight on the waves. So that's what she had used to shoot acorns at them. He blinked. Wasn't that shape rather unusual? "I have to keep it in the case 'cause the water's no good for the rubber," she explained. "Dad made the case for me... But I want to make weapons you can use in the water, too. When I'm big I'll be strong enough to defend Mum and Dad and no-one's gonna catch me again!"

"Hey, that's good thinking," said Franky approvingly. "Maybe I could give you some pointers about that... well, not right now, anyway." He scratched his chin. "I know a way to treat rubber so it won't stop working in the water."

Nisi's eyes grew wide. "Really...?" She seemed to want to ask more about that, but a soft cry from Chopper stopped here.

"That shape...!" the reindeer exclaimed. He bent forward to look at the slingshot intently. It was unusually big and rounded, with short wooden spikes nailed into it. Though smaller, it reminded Brook a lot of Usopp's main weapons, the Kabuto. But he didn't understand what the spikes would be good for in this case, unless...

Chopper seemed to think the same thing. "You don't... have dials, do you?" he asked the mermaid girl.

"Dials...? Oh! We got one of those – at least, Dad said he thought the shell that can shine is a dial. A 'light dial'. It's reeeal old and no-one knows where it's from." She frowned, looking confused and waved the slingshot around a bit. "What's that got to do with my weapon?"

"Oh. Um, it's nothing – not important." Chopper looked pale. "Î was just surprised by the shape... but it doesn't matter."

Nisi seemed embarrassed and put her slingshot back in the case. "I just thought that's how they're supposed to look," she mumbled.

Chopper drew in air sharply and exclaimed, "So then you've –!" then shut his mouth abruptly, as Brook and Franky gave him warning looks. Chopper swerved around with his back towards the mermaid, clenching his front hoofs and trembling violently.

He didn't look well at all, thought Brook, who had a very cold feeling in his stomach himself.

Miss Nisi hadn't moved away this time, but she shrank a little, her eyes large and anxious. After a few long seconds, she blurted out, "I didn't steal this, you know!" She tugged on the yellow bandanna-scarf. "I _got_ it! My hand was hurt and bleeding, and those guys used it like a bandage when they helped me,  so there!" Her voice sank down; her tail was twitching and splashing back and forth in the water. "Mum washed it for me later," she added.

"Ah... Miss Nisi," said Brook hesitantly, "when you say _"those guys_ "..." He stopped, unsure how to continue. "...Would you perchance be talking about two or three of our crewmates?" he finally asked diffidently.

"Mm-hm," assented Nisi, looking away into the water. "They helped me get free," she mumbled. "That one with the strawhat who's the captain and can stretch. And, and the other one." She tugged at her scarf again, then spun her slingshot around in the air, slowly. Finally she put the weapon back in the case and snapped it shut.

Brook felt tentatively on the rock, making sure it was there to keep him steady in the face of dizziness. He wiped sweat off his cheekbones with a well-worn handkerchief. "Oh, my," he mumbled under his breath.

"Huuuh." Franky exhaled slowly. Brook raised his gaze to see the cyborg leaning back with an even more serious look at the young mermaid. Chopper still stood with his back turned to her, holding himself rigid and staring fixedly at the ground.

"So... Acorn-Sis," Franky said quietly, "d'you know why we came back here? What we're out here looking for?" He gestured towards the whole of the bay in a sweeping movement; Brook followed it, letting his eyes rest on the spot where they had left their packs, and the spade that was tied to Franky's pack. From this distance he wondered if Miss Nisi could see it, though.

Nisi only nodded slowly, her eyes wide and fearful. She crouched where she sat, inching a bit further into the water.

Brook coughed. "Then, would it perhaps be possible for you to lend us some assistance, young lady?" he asked delicately.

"He means, can you tell us where we oughta go, if you know it?" added Franky. Chopper turned around again, more composed now.

Nisi looked unsure. "It's a secret," she said. "I'm not supposed to– but Dad said he'd take you there if he could, and Mum said that was right..." She nodded and drew herself up, adjusting the slingshot case. "I could tell you. But," she put her head to the side and regarded them quizzically, "you can't go there."

"Why not?" asked Chopper.

"Because you're human."

"No, I'm not," objected Chopper.

"Oh. Right!" Nisi pointed at Chopper. "I forgot! Can you breathe under water like we can, then?"

"Nah, he can't," Franky broke in, "and not only that, but both him and the skeleton sink like stones in the water. I'm a pretty super swimmer, though. Built myself to be, see? So, is this place you're talking about under water, then?"

Nisi shook her head. "Not the whole _place_ ," she said, as if this should be obvious. "It's just the way _in_." She waved towards the island. "There's another way in that's on land, but I don't know the way, I never go there."

Franky exchanged looks with his two crewmates, then said slowly, "That's no big problem, long as these two idiots won't fall into the water when I'm gone. I'll just go get something from our boat we can use to go to that place in."

The mini-submarine vessel, of course. But for Franky to swim all the way to Thousand Sunny alone... Brook wasn't certain he liked it. Not in these waters.

Chopper expressed the same concern. "But what about seakings?" he pointed out. "I know you're strong, Franky, but still..."

"Oh," said Nisi, "they're not here right now. Except for some old ones, and Dad went to talk with them before, he said they wouldn't attack you... The rest went to that Calm Belt place to make babies, and Mum and Dad said they'll probbly be a lot less dangerous than they used to be once they come back."

"Well, that's all right then," said Brook, immediately believing her. Franky just nodded and stretched.

"Sure, whatever," he said. "Don't worry, I'll be back real soon. I'm pretty fast this week. Just don't any of you idiots fall in in the meantime, okay?"

Chopper and Brook nodded. "Okay! Just be careful!" Chopper cried out. Franky went over to the side that faced away from the bay and jumped into the water with a handsome splash.

"Um..." Nisi splashed her tail around indecisively, then quickly said, "I could go with you. I know I'm just eight, but I'm a lot faster than I used to be!"

"Nah, I'll be okay," shouted Franky from the other side. He started to swim with steady, powerful strokes, adding over his shoulders, "I've got some good experiences with big fishes, too. Besides, if it's just a few ones out there, I can handle it even if they change their minds about playing nice. Bye!"

And soon he'd disappeared out of sight. Chopper sighed faintly while Brook got up on his feet, spinning his cane in a circle.

Miss Nisi still looked at where Franky had swum off. "He's so big and blocky and metal-y I thought he'd sink. But he's pretty fast."

"Mr Franky is powered by cola," said Brook. Then he fell quiet for a moment, lost in new thoughts. He turned his head, letting the eyes he didn't have sweep the bay, settling on three distant, bulky shapes at the forest's edge. "Porcupines," he murmured. "Crocodiles…"

"What's cola?" said Nisi behind him. "Are you powered by that, too, Mr Skeleton?"

Brook turned around, looked at the child blankly for a moment, then at Chopper. "I seem to remember there being quite a bit of hostile animals on this island, when we were here before."

Chopper nodded, looking surprised and a little puzzled. "Yeah, there were. Some of them were controlled by the Marines… some just seemed grumpy, like they hated all strangers. But now we've hardly seem any."

"That's 'cause the bone whistle broke," said Nisi. "Because he smashed it. Dad says so."

"Ah… Well, in any case," said Brook, whose empty head felt quite heavy by now, "they might still be tempted by the food in our packs." He pointed towards the distant bulky shapes. "Perhaps we should return there for now."

Chopper nodded. "Yes, we should drink some more water," he said. "Um. I might be able to eat a sandwich, too."

Brook agreed. He couldn't say he was looking forward to the proposed submarine trip and its eventual goal, but he had to admit he felt some relief they didn't have to keep doing their search right now. It was only postponing things, of course. Sometimes that was all one could do, though. Like getting a brief respite from battle.

"I'll go with you," said Nisi. "I'll shoot acorns at them if they try! Even if they're badgers."

"Badgers can be frightful," Brook agreed, then took a few steps back before leaping over to the closest rock. Chopper followed him as they made their way back on the rocky outcrop towards the safety of the beach, warning him to be careful. Miss Nisi kept pace with them in the water.

Brook wondered, as he scrambled for footing on slippery stones, if he ought to question the girl some more. His poor ghostly brain didn't seem to work quite properly right now. She knew where Usopp was, that was sure (unless, of course, she was lying, but what earthly reason would she have for that?). Would it do any good to try to find out what they would see, once they made their way there? He tried out a few sentences in his head, then discarded them all. No. It was weak of him, but... he would prefer to postpone that part of it, too.

"Hey," Chopper said to Nisi as they approached the beach, "you never said who your dad is."

"Um... he's a merman..." Nisi all but stopped, this close to the shore, her tail going back and forth in a circle. She fiddled with her slingshot case and didn't look at either of them.  
"Does he or your mother know you're here?" Chopper persisted.

"They... uh... maybe." Nisi dove into the water again, emerging farther from the shore than before. "There aren't even any badgers there!" she yelled at them. "I'm going to go practice."

After that, they didn't see much of her, as they made their way back to the forest's edge, where their packs still stood unharmed in the shade. But they had little doubt she was still there. Occasionally they'd hear the sound of acorns hitting rocks or tree trunks further away.

 

*

Sanji stood there in the half-lit mountain tunnel for what felt like a very long time, Robin and the merman waiting silently behind him. Those two apparently had not trouble breathing, so there must be plenty of oxygen in this place after all, even though he felt close to fainting. Even leaning on the wall of the curved path, his legs barely held him up.

It wasn't like a battle of wills between reason and emotion with him now, nothing like that. Reason, duty, loyalty had got him this far; now they had given up and fallen away, lying exhausted by the wayside. But his emotions were not in much better shape, rammed and battered and tossed around as they'd been, like rowboats by giant iron battleships. They had retreated, too, nothing to offer.

No, it was simply his body itself that refused to move, that didn't want Sanji to go on and reach the place where the path ended. It was his body that said, _here and no further_ , and Sanji found little if anything left in him to fight this refusal.

Later, he would think of those first few stumbling steps he'd finally taken as one of the hardest things he'd ever had done. In the end, he wasn't even sure what pushed him to move, at long last: maybe just the tired knowing that this did need to be done.

But there were times when he would find himself thinking that the Sanji who'd drawn a long rasping breath as he pushed himself off the wall was not the same Sanji who had come to a dead stop in front of it. And that there was no going back to that earlier Sanji from then on.

That being said, he still doubted he'd managed to walk the rest of the way, had not Robin come up beside him almost immediately, hooking an arm in his. He was faintly aware he'd normally be both embarrassed and deeply thrilled at such an unusual gesture. But now, he just felt a dangerously soft and warm gratitude wash over him, one he needed to squash down and control lest it made him a blubbering mess. He managed to send her a tired, bleak smile; then kept his head down and just focused on taking the next breath, the next step, the next breath again. There were footsteps on the other side of the sloping path, Ananshio keeping his distance.

They walked like that for a few minutes, down the widening path that grew lighter and lighter, with a new smell of cooking in the air. Until finally it ended into a high and wide open space, a cavern about the size of two-and-a-half Thousand Sunny's. They had arrived at the hide-out.

 

*

Looking at the great cave in front of him, Sanji leaned on Robin for a moment before he managed to let go and straightened up. As Ananshio had mentioned before, there was daylight here, coming from a shaft in the ceiling that stretched all the way to the mountaintop. Straight below it on the ground was a modest patch of vegetables. They all looked rather small, but that they grew at all with what was likely nothing more than half an hour's sunlight at most each day was quite impressive.

About two-thirds of the cave floor was relatively even, but towards the far end, the ground sloped gently downwards again into a large basin of water that reached the wall of rock opposite where they were standing. Sanji couldn't see down to the underwater passage that Ananshio had mentioned, but there was a faint swell and ebb to the water that spoke of a connection to the sea. There were plenty of seaweed in the water, some of it winding like vines up support planks. A pair of child-sized crutches leaned against the edge in the shallows, presumably for Ananshio's daughter to use.

On all the walls of the cave except the far one above the basin, faintly luminous moss grew in patches, helping to illuminate the place; Sanji also spied an unlit oil-lamp in a corner. Along the walls of the cave there were shelves, bedrolls, barrels and a various other smaller things. Near the centre of the room were chairs, a sofa that seemed carved from a treetrunk, a workman's table full of tools, urns and bottles with a medical look to them. Next to it was a larger table or perhaps a raised mattressless bed, looking even more medical. Even the big green tome on the table looked quite similar to one he'd often seen Chopper leaf through.

Not far from the vegetable patch was a brick-built stove with an elaborate chimney folding upwards and disappearing into a crack. A pot was boiling on the stove, letting out smells of cabbage and carrots and a hint of pork. And right next to it, stirring the soup and taking a thoughtful sip with a spoon, stood a dark-haired middle-aged woman.

Sanji found himself straightening up a little more and adjusting his tie, politeness instinct kicking in. The woman – the mermaid, as she must be – had probably looked very lovely when young, he thought. She must be close to forty by now, though, and years and burdens of life had clearly taken their toll. There were lines of age and distress around her mouth and eyes, and her figure was skinny and angular rather than slim.

But the wavy black hair she kept in a high bun was still beautiful, and as she left the stove behind and walked over to them, he thought the same of her clear, brown eyes and the direct gaze she fastened on them. _How dare that bastard Ananshio let himself get enslaved for five years and cause her trouble,_ flashed through Sanji's mind for a second. She wore a green cardigan over a simple linen blouse, two black cloth shoes and a pair of wide trousers that ended well above her ankles, revealing a few shimmering scales that looked charming rather than startling. Clearly this lady didn't see a need to hide who she was, at least not in this place.

"Hello," said the mermaid in a low, calm voice. "You would be of the Strawhat Pirates, right?" She glanced at her husband.

"They are," said Ananshio, stepping forward and turning to Robin and Sanji. "This is my wife, Piriko," he told them, then to her, "This here's Sanji Blackleg and Nico Robin."

Sanji bowed and Robin nodded. But Piriko had already started to bow herself, quite deeply, holding her head down for several seconds. "Welcome to our hide-out. Thank you very much for the great services you have done for my home and my family."

"It was just a coincidence," mumbled Sanji, fishing up a cigarette to hide his embarrassment.

Robin took a deep breath, and when she spoke, Sanji could hear the effort it took to keep her voice level. "Your husband told us we would find answers here. He told us... we would find our crewmate here."

"He was right," said Piriko. "Please, do sit down." She gestured at the sofa, then said "Keep an eye on the pot, will you?" to Ananshio. Then she fetched a wooden box of the sort that might have floated to shore as driftwood. She put it on the ground in front of them before sitting down on it.

There was a pause. Sanji felt his heart beat harder, but it was somewhere far away from the rest of him. He bit on his cigarette and looked down at the floor, no longer very interested in the cave's interior.

Piriko cleared her throat. "On that day," she said softly, "I didn't know what was going on, except that my husband would have to do a very dangerous thing for the Marines involving a pirate crew I knew little about and cared less for. But then he – so the Commander had said – would win his freedom. And I knew that I and my daughter were hostages for his good behaviour. We had been careless and unlucky, and they managed to capture us.

"They separated us, taking my daughter away from me – I still think they meant to sell her. My husband freed me and because of my slow leg, I knew I couldn't be much help running after her. So instead I swam off to this hide-out of mine. We have managed to keep it a secret over the years, despite my tending patients here on some occasions. Of course, we never let a human know of the other way in, the one over land. Until now."

Ananshio came over to them and handed the Strawhats a mug of water each, taken from the barrel that Sanji had seen before. Sanji held it and didn't drink. He glanced quickly at Robin, whose beautiful face was achingly pale and set, then hesitantly moved his arm towards her, reaching out. She took it immediately.

Then Sanji raised his head and was watching Piriko again, the soft and hard lines of her face; her solemn, unwavering gaze that encompassed both of them.

"Then my husband appeared, with my daughter, carrying a human stranger who was unconscious and bleeding profusely – close to death, in fact, I saw. My husband cried to me, "We _have_ to save this one, please, do the best you've ever done," and my daughter said much the same; I ran to get the operating table in order. There was no time for talking and catching up. I got to work as fast as I could.

"We used a new method I've developed myself, putting him in near-stasis through a chilled-down coated bubble, to slow down all the processes but the most vital ones. We also put an oxygen-bubble around his head to help him breathe. I had very little of his blood type in stock, but it was the same as my husband's, so we were able to give him several transfusions.

"My husband told me of what had transpired in bits and pieces as we worked; small bits that wouldn't distract me. I would have trusted my husband's judgment and followed my healer's creed in any case, but hearing about all of it... my daughter's rescue, the Commander's defeat, the destruction of the bone whistle... well, it certainly didn't make me work any _less_ , you will understand.

She paused, then continued at a slightly slower pace, looking out into the air thoughtfully for a few moments. "Believe me when I say we struggled very hard. We hardly slept during those days, and ate little. Yet I would say that _he_ struggled even harder. I could sense the stubbornness of his soul as we worked; we both could. He even managed to reach consciousness a couple of times on the second, third and fourth day. He said a few words, then..." She looked down, her hands running down the legs of her trousers, smoothing them. "He fought so hard," she repeated quietly.

"It wasn't enough," Sanji said hollowly, no longer trying to steel himself and pushing away heart-breaking news. He already knew, had known for a while now, since hearing Ananshio starting to talk about ghosts. The last remnant of the desperate hope that had woken – much though he'd tried to quench it – when Nami told him of the merfolk healers of Turnweed Island... that remnant had given up and fled before he stepped into the hideout.

"It was not," she said simply. "After four days and four nights, he stopped breathing."

Robin breathed out, slowly, a long, long, long, deep sigh. Her grip on Sanji's arm relaxed a tiny bit. Then it tightened again.

Four days. Four days during which they had all been sailing away from here, thinking it was all over... "Why the hell didn't we stay?" he said angrily. "Why the hell didn't we realise... If he could have sensed us being here, if Chopper could have been here to help, then maybe... At least, at least he wouldn't have been alone!"

"But how could you have known?" asked Piriko. "You didn't even know my husband is a merman, let alone we have a hideout here. You couldn't have found him since we took him away underwater, even if you'd dealt with all the Marines that remained. It was us that should have tried to find some way of contacting you, and if only there'd been more of us here, we'd have done it easily. But I couldn't spare my husband, I needed him here to assist me. My daughter actually asked if she could swim out and look for you, but we didn't dare let her. She's only eight."

"We... we should still have known, somehow," muttered Sanji irrationally. "We ought to have sensed it."

"Sanji," Robin said quietly, "I think we need to see him. So we can report to the others."

So _they_ wouldn't have to see it and make sure. After a pause, Sanji nodded, heavily. They stood up.

"Please show us where he is, Madame," he said thickly.

Piriko nodded. "Of course." She stood up as well, leading them to a corner of the room. Sanji realised what he'd taken for a mossclad patch on the wall was actually a curtain made of that same faintly luminous moss, presumably covering another opening in the rock behind it. This part of the cave was much colder than the rest.

Piriko turned to them and said, "He is well preserved. We have kept him in the sphere to halt the body's decay, and used all the ice from our root cellar for it. Though," she added in a lower tone, as Ananshio gave her the light dial and she activated it, "I think if you had waited a few more days to get here, it would be different."

She lifted a corner of the curtain, opening a door behind it. Robin squeezed Sanji's hand as they followed her inside.

 

*

The first thing Robin thought of was, _It's so cold._ Then her eyes adjusted to the cold of the room, and the next thing was, _There he is._

And then she frowned, let go of Sanji's hand and stepped forward. _There must be some kind of mistake. He doesn't look dead._

"He' s so small," Sanji said behind her, sounding small and lost himself.

He didn't look that small to Robin. She wondered for a moment if Sanji, instead of the muscular young man Usopp had become, might instead be seeing the scrawny youth from back when Robin had first joined, or even before that in East Blue.

She reached out a hand and then stopped, unwilling to break through the coated bubble. There were blocks of ice around the low bed, even inside the bubble. And yet despite the blueish skin with some green tints, and the dark blue-purple lips, Usopp's body looked more cold than dead to her. _Warm him up, quick, put him in some hot water,_ flashed through her mind irrationally. But then it hit home how lifelessly still he was, no breath going out in a cloud in the cold air, no tiny movement of the chest. His bandages must have been changed and re-changed, they were white without any blood stains. Had the merfolk couple made an effort to present him looking well to the crew? As if any of that mattered, she thought dully, numbly.

His head was bare, no hat anywhere. He wore only his trousers, and bandages. On the other side of the bed she saw his familiar bag leaned against the cave wall, two of his weapons sticking up from it.

"It's not right," she said suddenly. "He's not supposed to be cold." Usopp had been all about fire and explosions, of warmth and movement and liveliness, of shouts and laughter and reaching out to people, the very opposite of lying cold and lifeless in a bubble of isolation. She realised her cheeks were hot and wet. "I-it's not right," she repeated stupidly, backing away. Sanji was there to put an arm of support over her shoulders.

"We... we probably shouldn't touch him," he whispered hoarsely. "We shouldn't break through the sphere until the others get here, just – just in case they're delayed or something."

"I, I agree," mumbled Robin, wiping her eyes and nose though the tears kept coming, soundlessly. It was a superstitious thought, as there was no way that the body would corrupt that quickly. But she understood that superstition.

She was shaking with the cold as they made their way out of there, and maybe with more. Sanji was trembling, too, but not as much as he had before, on the mountain path. _He was already prepared for this,_ she realised.

Outside the smaller room, Ananshio walked over to them, looking both solemn and worried.

" _You_ said 'it's not that simple'," Sanji growled, but without looking at him. He didn't seem to have much energy to spare.

Ananshio looked at the ground. "I-I'm sorry I didn't put it the right way and made you hope," he mumbled. "But I wasn't going to lie to you, not again. And the truth really _is_ complicated."

Sanji gave him a disgusted look that said more clearly than words, _What the hell are you talking about? There's nothing "complicated" about it._

The merman took a deep breath. "As my wife said... he isn't alive anymore. He can't come back to you, he can't. But. He also isn't _gone_ , either. That's the problem."


	11. Kabuto

Absence, Chapter 11: Kabuto

 

In the sunlit clearing, Zoro didn't turn his head as Brook, Franky and a tip-toeing Chopper left the three of them behind, walking on towards the beach. The sound of their movements receded into the forest. But there was no longer any tense silence to replace it. Luffy had sunk down to the ground and was rocking to and fro, making wordless, desperate sounds like a small animal in pain. Zoro had never heard anything remotely like it from him. Its terrible strangeness made his chest and stomach hurt.

"Luffy," said Nami. She put down her pack; then, almost crying herself, she took a step forward towards the crumpled figure on the ground in the clearing.

Zoro followed her lead, taking off his own pack. "Luffy." He, too, took a step forward, then stopped. "Welcome back, captain." His voice sounded hoarse to his ears. He knelt down, choosing a formal pose rather than his usual cross-legged one.

Luffy shook his head wildly. "No, no, no, no..." His protest dissolved into inarticulate sound, half whine half keening, before going on, "...I'm not, I'm not..." Gasping for breath, he went on in a ragged, broken voice, "I _can't_ , I'm not... I'm not a good captain, they don't, they don't... they don't _lose_ people!" Hugging his knees again, he resumed his rocking back and forth. A great, racking sob worked its way through him and out, as tears finally started to come out.

He mumbled, "They don't, they don't, they don't, I can't be, I'm not..."

Nami sat down as well. She and Zoro both waited for a while in silence, then Zoro said gruffly, "Well, tough luck for you, Luffy, 'cause none of us want the job."

Luffy's head just sank even further between his shoulders. The whisper that followed was almost inaudible.

"He's gone..."

Zoro took a deep breath and then rocked back as if something very hard and heavy had slammed into him. It took a great deal of strength and self-control for him to sit up straight again.

Maybe it was the numbness, the cocoon he'd carried around himself for weeks finally torn off. Maybe it was only now, with Luffy's quiet whisper, that he truly, finally believed it as confirmed truth. It hadn't just been a dream – a near-month-long, surreal, harrowing nightmare – after all.

"Are you," he began to say, only for his voice to break. Ignoring Nami's glance at him, he looked down, squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists. Seconds passed.

Zoro took a deep breath and went on roughly, "Are you just planning to give up, or what? Do you want to disband the crew, stop helping us reach our own dreams? Stop seeking the One Piece to become the Pirate King?"

Nami stared at Zoro with wide eyes, opened her mouth only to close it again, saying nothing. She looked down at her hands in her lap.

Not raising his head, Luffy mumbled in a muffled voice, "...If I hadn't wanted to be the Pirate King, he'd be alive by now."

"No, he wouldn't be," said Nami sharply. "He'd have been killed by Captain Kuro along with Kaya and most of his village, maybe all of them. And you know what else, Luffy?" There was no reply, but Nami plowed on, "Nojiko told me this, later. Before you and Sanji turned up at my island. Arlong was going to kill Gen for hiding weapons, as a warning to the rest. If Usopp hadn't distracted him, that's what would have happened. And later in Little Garden, Vivi and Zoro and me would also have died if he hadn’t been there. And then I'd be killed a second time by Enel – except no, I'd already been blown up by that bomb in Albana, since it took all of us working together and Pell to stop it while you fought Crocodile. And Robin would have been taken away from us forever. And _you_ would have been killed by the cannons at Enies Lobby, because it took the rest of us too long to understand what was happening when Merry came."

She drew for breath; Zoro saw she was shaking, just a little. "I've been going through the day when we came to this place over and over again in my head, all the should-have-dones and if-onlys that could have made it end better. I know, I _know_ it's useless to do that, it doesn't lead anywhere, and yet I can't stop thinking that way, it's like when Bellemere died. But don't – don't extend that to his joining the crew, Luffy." There were tears on her cheeks, now, though her voice didn't falter. "He made that choice himself. He even made it twice – in Water 7, he knew a lot about the dangers we might face already, and he could easily have stayed there. But he didn't want to."

"She's right, Luffy," said Zoro. "Don't insult him by saying it was wrong for him to follow his dream and go to sea. _Especially_ since we wouldn't have gotten this far if he hadn't come with us."

Luffy only whimpered.

Nami buried her own face in her arms for a couple of moments, then looked up again.

Zoro's own tears wouldn't come. They hardly ever did. But the stiffness on his face, like a mask, was the same as it had been on _that_ day, when he had found out.

He went on, quietly, "You could say, he even got us back here. These last few weeks, when we've been trying to decide what to do and we couldn't ask you, because you weren't... you... it was thinking of what _he_ would have done that helped us see our way."

Luffy didn't answer that, either. It was several minutes later before he started to talk again, in a voice that sounded both ragged and from somewhere far away.

"Dunno if you guys knew this, but... I knew his dad when I was little. He's a sniper in Shanks' crew. Name's Yasopp."

"I didn't know that," said Zoro, though he wasn't surprised. A memory arose of a scrawny young man on a sleepy village in East Blue, who up until then had seemed all talk and no guts, yelling with fury at a contemptuous butler, _"The one thing I'm_ never _going to lie about... is that I'm_ proud _of my pirate blood!"_. It seemed a terribly long time ago.

"I did," mumbled Nami. That didn't surprise Zoro, either.

Luffy went on, haltingly, "That's why U... U... Usopp wanted to be a pirate in the first place." He grabbed the brim of his hat and tugged at it fiercely. "When I give this back to Shanks ...if I ever get that far..." His voice dropped into a mumble for a moment, but then started rising, higher and higher while his breathing grew more and more irregular. "...I'll have to, I mean, Yasopp will be there too I bet, Shanks is a good captain; and I'll have to tell him, I'll have to tell him I met his son and he was in my crew and was part of us this whole time and I couldn't, I couldn't take care of him..."

Voice ringing with despair, he sounded close to hyperventilation. They had to do something to stop this now. Zoro opened his mouth and searched for words, any words, but they all seemed to have fled him.

But Nami was already moving over to Luffy and put her arm across Luffy's back, holding him tightly. She started talking in a low but steady voice.

"When we meet Shanks, if Yasopp is still there, _I_ will talk to him. I will tell him about how we came to meet his son and fight alongside him and him joining us. I will tell him all about how he was with us, on every adventure we had, what it was like to be with him as a crewmate." She leaned her head against Luffy's shoulder and went on, "And I won't hide anything or try to make him look stronger and braver than he was. There's no need." Her tone was firm and certain. Luffy was trembling a little less by now, his breathing slightly less laboured.

"I will tell him how he got mad at you and left the crew and fought you, and how he still couldn't let us down and how he came back. I will tell him about the giants and Alabasta, of Arlong Park and Sabãody and Thriller Bark and the World Government's flag, and everything else. I'll tell him how he fought with us and bled with us, how he laughed and cried and had fun and was afraid and was a dumbass, all of it, and how he became my – my brother..." Her voice broke for a moment, but she recovered and breathed in deeply before going on in a thicker voice, wiping tears off her face.

"...I'll tell him about all of it, and, and I will also say that – that his dream wasn't left unfulfilled. That he was a brave warrior of the sea as he strove to be." She exhaled a litlle, smiling ruefully for just a second. "Maybe that won't be of any comfort to his father. Likely not. But I'll still tell him, because I know–" she took another deep breath, and then her voice dropped down – "I know that Usopp would have wanted him to know that."

Zoro thought of something and got up on his feet. Nami gave him a curious look, while Luffy, head still held low, didn't seem to even notice.

Walking over to his pack, Zoro got out his canteen of water, then took Nami's as well. He walked back to the other two and sat on his haunches. "Figured you need to drink," he told Luffy, putting the canteen in his hand so he'd find it harder to decline. Luffy wouldn't meet his eyes, but he didn't try to return the water. Zoro tossed the other one to Nami and stayed where he was right next to Luffy, sitting down crosslegged this time.

They drank, and then for a while everything was quiet. A cuckoo called from far away.

Eventually, Luffy started talking again. Still not looking up, he kept slowly tearing up straws of grass and staring at the air as he spoke.

"When we got out of the tunnel," he said slowly, "that seaking hit me right from the start, it must have known we were coming. And then, then I couldn't see for a while because of the blood. I still fought, but it was so fast, and I didn't know it had those fin-slicer- things... If I'd been alone, I think... I think I'd have been run through. Like he was. Maybe..." He stopped abruptly, body shaking again.

Zoro wondered about that. He'd seen the tail-end of the fight, reaching the seashore too late, not yet knowing what had happened. It had seen one-sided by then, as Luffy had pounded the King of Seakings so ferociously the beast was torn apart by the force of the blows. Yet, he didn't doubt that Luffy could be right. On the wrong day, a strong fighter might meet his death at the hands of someone they would normally defeat, just as you could find yourself cutting down someone who had completely dominated you minutes earlier.

And a pessimistic warrior who found it hard to believe he could win needed more death-defying courage than those blessed from the start with confidence.

"He saved his captain." Nami's voice was low, warm, a little hoarse. "He _wanted_ to."

Luffy burst out wildly, "I don't care! I don't care, I don't care. So what if he was a hero or whatever, so what if he reached his dream– ! I'd rather–" he hitched on a sob – "I'd rather have the old Usopp back from the beginning who was only brave sometimes, even if he was weaker and didn't want to be like that and had to be saved a lot. I'd rather keep saving him over and over than him being strong and brave and saving me and then not – n-n-not –"

Nami leaned on him, holding him over the shoulders again. "Luffy, you're not making much sense."

"I don't _want_ to make sense!" Luffy cried out. "I want him _back_!" Head buried in his knees, he grabbed Nami's hand, then with his other hand he reached out fumbling for Zoro's hand as well. A tight grip, almost like someone drowning who clung onto driftwood as hard as he could.

"Me, too," murmured Nami. "I'd stop making sense forever if it would bring him back."

After a while, Luffy said in a small voice, "I thought... I thought he was me, I was both me and him. I guess 'cause... if he wasn't a real person, then he couldn't be g-gone... So weird." His eyes were staring into the air, tears slowly trailing down his cheeks and neck. "I was pretty nuts," he stated matter-of-factly, neither flippantly nor guiltily.

"Yeah," Zoro agreed simply. That Luffy was able to see this now was a relief in his mind, though a rather small one considering all the rest that filled it up. "Luffy," he went on, putting more firmness in his voice. "We went behind your back to turn the boat around and come back here. And then when you found out and told us to turn around we refused to."

Nami shot him a weary, are-you-sure-you-want-to-do-this look. Zoro ignored it. Luffy just looked puzzled.

"Yeah, I know, I remember," he said. "I haven't started to forget _everything_. So?"

"That's mutiny, Luffy," Zoro clarified.

"Oh. Right," Luffy blinked. Then he suddenly grinned – a sight they hadn't seen for far too long now, even if it soon passed. "Thank you!"

Nami smiled widely at that. "You're welcome."

Zoro sighed. "That's not what I meant," he tried again.

Another confused look. "Huh? Then what?"

"I meant – captains can do whatever they want to a crew that mutinies. It's that serious. They have the right."

The confused look went away. Instead, Luffy gave Zoro a long, silent look that Zoro wasn't sure how to interpret, but seemed uncomfortably close to saying, _Don't be like this. You don't have to._

But then he just sighed and said, "I guess Zoro is always Zoro, huh."

Nami nodded. "Don't I know it. I _tried_ to tell him..."

Zoro frowned, annoyed. "Hey! What's _that_ supposed to mean?" But then he calmed down as a sudden thought hit him. Speaking of annoying things... "Hey. Shouldn't the cook and Robin have caught up with us by now? We've been here for a while." And even before that, they'd been taking it pretty slowly as they walked down from the island's centre, matching Luffy's faltering pace.

"Huh. Yeah, they really _are_ slow," said Luffy, worry creeping into his face. It didn't feel natural, seeing Luffy get worried so easily, thought Zoro. It just wasn't right.

"Maybe Robin found something else she'd like to examine," suggested Nami. "Some old ruins or something. Or maybe they just took a different path and are at the beach by now."

Headtilt from Luffy. "Why _are_ we going to the beach?" he asked.

Nami looked surprised. Zoro, too, had forgotten Luffy wouldn't know about this part.  
Then again, they hadn't really thought much of what to do beyond this moment, had they? Just like Nami had traded away their log pose so they could get here faster.

"So we can find him. If he's there," he said roughly.

"And then hold a funeral," added Nami quietly.

Luffy seemed to take this in. He nodded slowly. Said nothing.

Then, abruptly, he stood up, just like that.

"Let's go." He took a few steps – only for his legs to give way and drop him on the ground again. "Hey?!"

"You need to eat something," said Nami. She went over to her pack, dug out a sandwich and tossed it to Luffy. "Here. It's chicken." He caught it in his mouth automatically, but without even a hint of a smile.

Nami and Zoro ate a little as well, though Zoro could hardly even taste the ham sandwich that he suspected actually tasted great. Then they set off again, back on the path through the trees. Nami quickly took the lead, pointing out the alleged right direction in what Zoro felt to be a needlessly emphatic manner.

 

*

Chopper hadn't been sitting very long under the shade of the trees at the forest's edge before he started to feel drowsy. It wasn't the kind of drowsiness that comes from contentment, but rather one from being worn down by too much grief and anxiety, and with nothing pressing to do right then. And it was a warm day.

Brook was keeping very still, leaning back against curving trunk of a palm tree. Perhaps he had fallen asleep already. It was hard to tell with Brook, when he wasn't snoring. Maybe he was just meditating.

Chopper wondered if he ought to have pressed the mermaid girl with more questions, like what kind of place it was that had the underwater entrance, why they had taken Usopp's body there, what kind of state it was in right now and other things. But he felt uneasy at the thought of asking her all that, afraid of the answers she might give him; of the responsibility he would have of letting the others know. It was better to wait until everyone was present, he told himself. If they even needed to ask her now, rather than find out once they got there.

Besides, he might sound too abrupt or use the wrong words and then she might be scared and go hiding again. Chopper didn't think he was very good with human children. They usually made him nervous. And mermaids were _fast_ – if she got upset enough to go off and not want to come back, even the swimmers among them might not be able to find her.

A faint breeze came by, swaying the leaves of the tree. On its wing, Chopper sensed three familiar smells. He lifted his head, sniffing and listening, then leaned over and nudged the skeleton. "Hey, Brook…"

"Hmm?" Brook moved his head, followed Chopper's gaze. Then he shot straight up in one grandly sweeping movement, just as Chopper got his first clear sight of Luffy, Zoro and Nami coming down the forest path.

Brook saluted. "Captain," he said respectfully.

The three came into better view. Nami and Zoro looked mostly normal. Sad, but that was normal too these days. Nami's eyes were red, and Zoro had a lot less colour in his face than Chopper liked to see: he wondered if he ought to tell Zoro to eat something. Luffy... well, he looked a lot like the other two, in fact. Pale and very serious and still walking pretty slowly. His eyes were redder than Nami's, yet the look in them seemed clearer to Chopper than he'd seen in a long, long time. And he wasn't trembling anymore.

"Luffy! Are you – Did you–?" Chopper stopped, unsure of how to continue, afraid of making things worse. Maybe he was only seeing what he wanted to see...

"Where's Franky?" asked Luffy, looking around, at the same time that Nami asked, "Did Sanji and Robin get here?"

Brook said, to Luffy, "Mr Franky swam back to 'Little Lion' to retrieve our submarine," using his own nickname for Thousand Sunny.

Chopper said, to Nami, "Huh? No, we haven't seen them... " He frowned. That was true, Sanji and Robin ought to have caught up a while ago. Could something have happened, up there by the mountain?

"Slowpokes," muttered Nami as she put down her pack, the other two following suit.

Chopper peered anxiously into the thick forest. "Maybe we should go back and get them," he suggested. Really, was it okay just to leave it be?

"They'll be fine," said Zoro steadily, but his voice was much more tired than normal. He had crossed his arms. "Did you find anything yet?"

Brook and Chopper shook their heads in unison. "It appears that, aah, well..." Brook coughed. "We don't need to look, it seems..." He turned towards the bay, stretching his neck; then turned back, twiddling his bony fingers.

"What do you mean?" said Nami tensely.

"There's a mermaid kid here –" Chopper waved his hooves around, trying to explain properly – "she kept shooting acorns at us – said she already knows where he is, but the entrance is underwater, so..."

"A mermaid?" Nami looked startled, eyes wide. Chopper frowned, puzzled by this reaction. Surely Nami would be used to meeting mermaids by now... ? But it didn't see the right time to go into that. He just nodded and ran down to the shoreline.

"Hey, Nisi! Nisi!" he called out. At first there was no answer, but after half a minute he heard several splashes, coming close until the girl's dark-haired head popped up about fifteen metres away – in the opposite direction to where he'd thought she'd be.

"What is it?" she asked curiously.

Chopper pointed over his shoulder. "My captain is here! And more of my crew." Glancing back, he saw the others walking over to him, Nami in front of the rest.

Nisi swam a little closer, looking cautious.

As the trio caught up to Chopper (Brook lagged a bit behind), Nami stiffened, anger flashing in her eyes. "That bandanna– !" she burst out. Zoro's face also grew harder as he saw the piece of yellow cloth around Nisi's neck.

But Luffy just leaned forward to look closer. "Oh, you've still got that?" he said.

Nami and Zoro stared at Luffy. "Huh?" they went in unison.

"Yeah," Nisi replied, bobbing her head up and down and giving Luffy a shy smile. "I washed it myself! My arm is fine now."

Luffy actually smiled back at her; it didn't look forced, though there was something there in his eyes that made Chopper's heart ache. "Good. It's okay," he told Nami and Zoro. "Her arm was hurt before when some flying shrapnel grazed it in the battle, so we... Usopp gave it to her as a bandage."

Chopper blinked, his heart suddenly pounding. Did he... Yes, he'd heard that right. "L-Luffy!" he gasped, moving over to stand in front of his captain with unsteady legs. "You remember!!"

"Thank heavens," murmured Brook, who had finally caught up to them.

Something burst inside of Chopper, then, after way too many days and nights of fear and worry and helplessness and deeply hidden anger. "Waaah! Luffy, you dummy!" he cried out, not even bothering to change forms as he launched himself at Luffy and hugged him really hard, the stupid tears starting to fall again.

"Chopper!" Luffy hugged him back tightly, knocking the breath out of Chopper.

Chopper burst out, tongue tripping on the words, "I'm s-sorry we had to sneak behind your back and, and couldn't talk to you and– "

"I'm sorry I went nuts!" answered Luffy, hugging him even harder, burying his head in Chopper's fur: Chopper could feel spots of it getting damp. "I'm sorry you couldn't talk to me," Luffy murmured, I'm sorry I said those things..." But there was a relief in his voice now, as there had been for Chopper. _Is it wrong of us, being relieved over this?_ Chopper wondered, then swallowed tightly and shook his head firmly. _No! It can't be! Usopp would want that, I'm sure!_

And then Luffy suddenly froze. He raised his head a little and loosened his grip, putting Chopper down on the sand. "...I'm sorry," he repeated tonelessly, looking down. "I couldn't, I, I..."

Chopper looked up at Luffy, who was now blank-faced and motionless again, trying to understand. _That I couldn't save him? Is that what you're trying to say?_ he wondered. Something like that would be far too big for normal sorrys, so big it would choke your words off. As it choked anything Chopper could say in return.

Instead he just hugged Luffy's legs, leaning his forehead against them. He wasn't sure if he was trying to give strength, or take it.

Brook coughed softly after some moments had passed. "Mr Luffy. I just wished to say that while we don't regret it, we are still prepared to face the consequences of mutiny."

Chopper swallowed again, then let go and stepped back, nodding seriously in support of what Brook had said. But Luffy only nodded vaguely, while Zoro caught Brook's eye and made a waving gesture that Chopper took to say _it's all right, it's covered_. Meanwhile, Luffy turned back to Nisi, who was twirling some kelp around as she looked at them with wide eyes. Was she upset about the crying pirates? Chopper felt a little sheepish.

"How come _you_ know where we're supposed to go?" Luffy asked her.

She didn't seem to quite understand the question. "Because I _know_ ," she said, as if it was self-evident. "It's at Mum's hideout. 'S a neat place, you can live there and everything. Mostly we live in a house under the sea that belongs to Our Tribe" – she said the last two words in a tone of evident pride – "but sometimes we go to the hideout instead. 'Cause it's safer." There was a slight waver in the girl's voice, as if she still wasn't sure she was allowed to tell them all this.

Nami took a step forward, a tense look on her face. "When – when you're saying "Our Tribe"... are there many of you here?"

Nisi shrank a bit, looking downcast. "N-no. Everyone left. Even Aunt Dina and Cousin Oyo left in the rainy season to go look for my uncle. There's just me and Mum... and Dad, now," she added, a little brighter at the last. "But Dad was gone for a _really_ long time. I even forgot what he looks like!"

"I see," said Nami. "By the way, I'm Nami, and this here's Lolonoa Zoro." She pointed at him, then at Luffy. "And that's Monkey D. Luffy, in case he didn't tell you that before."

Nisi looked over at Luffy again and took a deep breath. "And _my_ name is Latiannisikka Pirikoveene Ananshidaane."

"Oh my," said Brook, spinning his cane in the air. "That name is longer than you are, Miss Nisi."

Much too long for Chopper. Was he supposed to remember all that? "But that's not what you said before," he protested.

"My _short_ name is Nisi," she explained.

"Hey," Zoro spoke up, his back turned to them as he looked out at the water. "Franky's back."

Chopper followed Zoro's gaze. On the rocky edge of the left-side promontory, the top of the Mini-Submarine emerged. A moment later, Franky popped his head out. "I'm baaack!" he proclaimed. "Oh, you guys made it here, that's super! We'll have to split up in two, though. The old sub's not large enough for six."

"I was just thinking that," Nami called out. "Especially with our bags and all."

"Then the ones who stay can tell Sanji and Robin we're gone," Chopper pointed out, wondering if he ought to volunteer to do either that or go in the sub. He looked up at Luffy anxiously. "Um... do you want to..."

"Strawhat!" Franky shouted out, and if there was an unease in him it didn't show at this distance. "You're coming, Captain?"

Luffy took off his pack and straightened up. Then he tugged down his hat and started to walk across the sand. "Yeah. We're coming."

*

He wasn't shivering any more. But even though he'd been sitting in a chair close to the stove for a while now, covered by a blanket and drinking a cup of herbal tea that kind-hearted Piriko had handed him, Sanji was still cold.

Robin seemed less affected; she had already put aside the thick shawl she'd been handed, though she was also sipping tea. She had been very quiet for some time now. Sanji felt like he ought to reach out for her in some way, maybe tell her how infinitely grateful he was that she was here with him right now, but all the words he could use seemed very far away, and the Sanji who would have said them didn't seem to be in right now. He wondered distantly if Chopper would have said he was in some kind of shock. But he didn't feel numb as much as... drained.

"Something large is coming," he heard Piriko say, surprise and alarm in her voice. He turned his head to see the mermaid look down into the water basin with concern. Ananshio jerked his head up and hurried over to her side, squatting down to dip his hand into the water.

"You're right," he said. "But there's no time to hide..." He grabbed Piriko by the arm and backed away.

Sanji got up half a second before Robin, both of them walking over to the water's edge. There were big ripples, true... But then, he blinked in pure astonishment. What emerged from the water was nothing but a small mermaid.

"I'm back! I –" she stopped abruptly, looking in confusion and perhaps some fear at the two strangers before her. "Um... Muuum!"

"I'm here, dear." Piriko hurried forward with Ananshio in tow. "Dad, too. It's all right, they're the good pirates."

The little girl stared. "Even more?" She turned around to point behind her, "I already brought some!" Then she swam out of the way and hopped up to grab her crutches, handling them with practiced ease. A periscope emerged near the end of the basin. Sanji sighed with relief as the crew's Mini-Submarine followed, rows of seaweed parting before it. He hadn't been looking forward to having to trek all the way back up through the mountain and then down to the beach in order to find the others.

Chopper's fuzzy round head was the first to pop up through the opening. "Wow, it's a big cave!" he exclaimed with wide eyes, then lit up. "Hey, Sanji and Robin are here! Hey, guys!" Sanji waved back indulgently; Robin smiled fondly. Chopper jumped out and then stood there wobbling on the slippery topside for a couple of seconds before he changed to Walk Point and leapt ashore.

The next one out – was Luffy, pale-faced and solemn. But not, Sanji thought, quite as grim and terrified as he'd looked earlier today. Observing further, as Chopper trotted over, Luffy slung himself ashore, Nami-baby and then Franky emerged from the submarine, Sanji felt sure of it: _He knows. He's remembered._

Not only because of how he looked, and how he moved – slowly and heavily, and maybe not so very different from the others' movements – but also because of how the other three behaved towards him. Nami, Chopper and Franky no longer avoided looking at Luffy, nor did they give him worried, covert sideway glances. They treated him like normal again. Except, well, nothing felt truly normal anymore. _The same way of abnormal as the rest of us,_ Sanji amended his thoughts. If anything, those three looked even more lost in their own thoughts now.

As he could have predicted, none of the new arrivals were pleased at seeing Ananshio – or as they knew him, "Tomasso" – but the presence of his wife and child seemed enough to make them restrain any initial violent impulse. Sanji and Robin being there without having beaten the guy to a pulp likely helped calming them down, too.

Piriko then defused things further by stepping up and welcoming them, repeating her deep bow of thanks. As Franky, Luffy and Chopper introduced themselves and started to ask questions (in a rather subdued way), Nami went over to where Sanji and Robin stood.

"Hey," she said, lowering her voice considerably. "Is he..." She glanced around the cave.

"In a small room behind that moss over there," said Robin, pointing.

"They've kept him cooled down," said Sanji, his voice sounding hollow to his own ears.

Nami studied them both. "The way you look... he's not..."

"No," said Sanji quickly. Robin shook her head.

Nami sagged. "I see. It was a stupid hope from the beginning."

"Not stupid," Sanji objected. "They said they tried really hard, and I believe them, but... It wasn't enough."

"Yeah," breathed Nami. She looked even paler now.

"There's more to it..." Sanji began, but Nami interrupted him.

"That will have to wait a bit." She turned around, facing the basin of water. "I'm going back to pick up Zoro and Brook. I promised I would. I... I want us all to be here." He watched her walking towards the Mini-Submarine, swaying for a moment before steadying herself and calling out to the other three to explain. From the back she looked terribly vulnerable to Sanji, right then. The little mermaid leaped into the water, too, eager to come along and show the lady pirate the way back. Sanji drifted over to the others.

At first, he got the impression the new arrivals wanted to look at Usopp's body right away, visibly steeling themselves for it. But as he and Robin reported what they'd seen, Luffy, Franky and Chopper stopped talking of that, but stayed in the middle of the cave to listen to the merfolk first, just as Sanji and Robin had done before.

Maybe that was counter-intuitive, Sanji thought distantly. One would have thought they'd be less reluctant to see a well-preserved body than one which was not. But maybe they just didn't feel as compelled to, once they knew he and Robin had already served as witnesses. Knowing that, they might feel they could afford to postpone that moment for a little longer. And the well-preserved body looked more _Usopp_ than a decomposing one would – much less horrible, but more him.

He felt ashamed and faintly horrified at being able to think such things, all calm and analytical; but even that horror and shame were detached, and not any stronger than the sheer inconceivable ludicruousness of it all. After nearly one whole month, he realised he still hadn't truly understood it. He glanced at Luffy; his captain's former delusion felt all too understandable. And listening to what Ananshio had claimed didn't help things – Sanji might very well just imagine it, but now he couldn't stop feeling he could actually half-sense that achingly familiar presence.

Ananshio and Piriko started to tell their side of the story once more, not all in the same order as he'd heard it earlier. Occasionally he felt the need to chime in to make their crewmates understand better; Robin spoke up as well a couple of times. With all the sidetracks and explanations, including brief words about the bone whistle and its curse, it all took quite some time to get through. Towards the end of it, Nami, Zoro and Brook arrived in the mini-sub and received an even more pared-down recapitulation.

Then Piriko insisted they all had cabbage soup, served with bread made from seaweed on the side. There weren't enough bowls to go around, so half of them used cleaned-out seashells instead. Sanji wasn't in the best state to enjoy the dish properly, but still noted it seemed to taste fine enough, just a tad overcooked and undersalted.

Finally, Robin gave a little cough in order to get everyone's attention.

"Now, we reach more complicated matters," she said. "It seems that Mr Ananshio here fancies himself a shaman."

" _I_ didn't use the word," mumbled Ananshio in protest. Robin ignored this and continued,

"He claims to be able to sense the presence of souls both of the living and the dead. Well, some of the dead, at least."

"Those who linger behind," said Piriko, stirring her soup. In a calm voice and without looking directly at any of the Strawhats, she added, "My husband has had this gift since before he turned twenty. If he's been lying this whole time, he's done it awfully well... and for no actual gain." She smiled at Ananshio; he gave her a sheepish, grateful grin in reply.

"In any case," said Robin, "what he said to us before you showed up was that – what was the wording you used, again? That he isn't..."

"Gone," said Ananshio gravely. "He isn't gone."

"Ah... a ghost?" asked Brook, voice nervous in the sudden silence. "Is that what you mean to say? He's a ghost now?"

Luffy said nothing, just looked at the merman with a look of intense attention that was much stronger than the pure anger he'd shown when he first recognised him. Ananshio flinched again and only looked back briefly, then down on the cave floor.

"...Yes," he muttered. "Or. Well. That is, he _should_ be a ghost. Better yet, he should be at peace, of course, but... I mean, that's what would make sense. The life has fled from his body despite all we did, there's no anchor for his spirit here... so if he hasn't passed on he's a ghost, clearly. And yet..." He looked up, meeting all of their gazes.

"Until now I have always sensed a very clear difference between the souls of living people and those of the dead. Always. But now..." he shook his head. "It just doesn't feel that way." He scratched his head, looking weary. "How should I put it... Yesterday, before you came back here, there were three living people on this island, so I should have been able to sense two souls, my wife and daughter. That's what my reason told me, and all my normal senses. But there were three souls present besides my own. And now, there should be eleven of us... yet it feels like twelve, to me."

He sighed, looking down again, his hands clasped firmly. "Maybe this happens, sometimes," he said thoughtfully, "with extremely stubborn people who just aren't ready to leave, and who won't even get diluted like normal ghosts. And I could just never have encountered it before. Or maybe it's some sort of unforeseen consequence of the new stasis technique we used. When we're alive, body and soul are connected; what affects one often changes the other as well."

"Or maybe," Piriko broke in in her low steady voice, " it has something to do with the power of the bone whistle spell that he broke without knowing it. Perhaps his spirit has latched onto a remnant of that magic that helps it to hang around and to stay strong."

Ananshio nodded. "That's possible, too." Although his voice held calm, there was something haunted in his eyes as his gaze flickered from pirate to pirate. "I think that you are supposed to do something for him. Maybe just the funeral, maybe something more. He's hung on for almost a month waiting for you to get here–"

"Hold it. _Hold it._ " Franky held up a hand, looking grim yet troubled. "This is... kinda a lot to take in all at once, ya know...? So..." He sighed, shifting a little where he sat crosslegged on the ground: he seemed ill at ease. "...Okay, let's go with this, that you're telling the truth as you see it. But what are you sayin', here? Can you see him? Can you talk to him?

"I never _see_ them," Ananshio replied. "I've tried to speak to him, but... I'm not good enough at this yet. The best I've been able to catch is just some low murmur, too low to make out any words."

"Yeah, well, that's not much to go on," said Franky, mouth twisting bitterly. But he was looking down, keeping one of his big hands in his lap, the other trailing pebbles on the cave floor.

"But I have picked up a general mood at times," said Ananshio, a little anxiously. "Mostly impatient, until today. Mostly relieved, now."

Hm. It sounded pretty vague to Sanji, and susceptible to wishful thinking, too. Not that he would dare to dismiss it, either. He lit a cigarette and kept quiet. Even though he'd had longer than most of them to think about this, he didn't feel he'd come up with anything new to add. He shivered again, forcing himself to slow his breathing. This all still hurt to think about.

Luffy was quiet as well. He sat there with his eyes dark but held open wide, taking everything in.

Chopper suddenly spoke up, raising his head and regarding the merman fixedly. "What if he _doesn't_ want us to do anything like what you say, to make him go away? What if you have it all wrong? Maybe he's just been waiting for us to get back so he could be with us again, and stay with us. Even, even if he's a ghost." His voice wavered a little on the last bit.

"No, no, no, no!" Ananshio burst out, looking upset. "That wouldn't lead anywhere good! Didn't you hear what I said about the bone whistle's curse? If you try to make souls stay on when they shouldn't, even if you think you have good reasons for it, it will just lead to misery in the end!"

Robin said, sitting very straight with her hands on her knees and not the shadow of a smile on her face, "But according to your story, those souls were tied to the whistle and the island against their will. If he truly wants what Chopper said, that's not the same thing."

"It's still wrong, all the same!" Ananshio protested. "You would end up suffering for it, and surely that would be the last thing he'd want..."

Zoro broke in. Mosshead didn't look too good; he sat slumped, with his elbows on his knees and nails digging into his arms, not much colour in his face. "If his spirit is still so strong," he said heavily, "could be it's because it wasn't meant to happen, it's not the way things should have gone. Not his true destiny." He paused; Sanji thought he saw his knees faintly trembling. There was sweat on Zoro's forehead. "We can't get him back," he went on. "Even Chopper can't make dead bodies function again. But like hell I'm going to listen to how the rules for normal ghosts are and whine that Usopp's soul won't follow them." His voice was sharp now, but his gaze hadn't left the ground. "He's a pirate. He was pretty much _born_ a pirate in his heart. Rules like that, they won't mean much to him. So." He breathed out slowly, then went on, "Yeah, maybe he does want to move on and expects us to do something, like you think. But if Chopper's right instead you won't hear me complaining about it." Then he shut his mouth abruptly.

Nami buried her head in her hands. "I don't know what to think... I can't... I never thought something like this would happen." She lowered her hands and sat still for a moment, her head still held low. Then she hugged herself and shook her head several times. "I don't know, I don't know..."

Her voice sounded pained and horrifyingly helpless. Sanji felt a burn of protective anger at it, uselessly. There was nowhere to direct that fire.

Brook coughed forlornly where he sat on a barrel. "I don't find ghosts very pleasant," he said quietly. "But company, now, that's different. That's... not something I would decline." He spun the top of his swordcane, a small, sad motion. "Still, I don't know if he needs _our_ company, now," he murmured, head hanging low.

At that point, the little mermaid came over and tugged at her mother's blouse. "Mum..." she mumbled.

"What is it, Nisi?" asked Piriko. So that was the child's name, noted Sanji.

"Mum, you should tell them..." Little Nisi whispered something into her mother's ear. Piriko nodded thoughtfully.

"Right." She looked very sober. "We were getting to that." She exchanged a look with Ananshio, then got up and walked over to a wooden chest in a corner of the room, close to the mountain path opening. She opened the chest and returned with a small blue book in her arms.

"Strawhats," she said solemnly. "I wrote down the things he managed to say during his last days, in the few times when he regained consciousness. Some of them were first witnessed by my husband, who reported them to me."

"...All right," said Sanji tightly after a few long seconds when nobody else said anything, just looked at the mermaid with blank, numb, fearful expressions. "Say them. Or let us read them. Please." He exhaled slowly, looking at the others to see if they'd object, but nobody did. Luffy tugged on his hat and held his head low. Sanji's hands and feet felt cold again, all too cold. He didn't know where the blanket had gone to.

After a moment's hesitation, Piriko leafed through her notebook, stopping at one point, and then handed the book over to the nearest Strawhat, which happened to be Robin. From there on the book passed through everyone's hands as they read in silence.

*

"Day One", the narrative started. "The patient was brought in with severe outer and inner injuries. Treatment started using new cold coating-method. Extensive surgery and repeated blood transfusions administered. Patient stayed unconscious the whole day.

Day Two. The patient regained consciousness briefly in the early afternoon...

_"Water... Hurts..." he had rasped. Piriko, who had been sitting right next to him adjusting the temperature of the sphere, quickly gave him a scoop of water from the big bucket at the foot of the bed._

_He went on to say, "Hurts, Chopper... Dammit..."_

_One minute later, he mumbled, "S'too dark..." (although it was quite light in the cave at that time). And then he slipped into deep sleep again._

_On the third day, he was conscious twice, first late in the morning, then towards sunset. Ananshio was there to see it the first time._

_"Where's..."_

_"Your crew's not here," Ananshio had said, trying to speak as clearly and reassuringly as he could. "They don't know where you are, we didn't have a way to tell them. But they are all safe and sound."_

_"Ah..." Usopp had mumbled, opened up one hand and raised it a couple of centimetres, then let it fall. He breathed heavily, painfully. "They'll come."_

_In the evening, he woke once more as Piriko put more ice at the foot of the bed before starting to ready herself for one more attempt at surgery, desperately trying to put right far too much in his body that just didn't work anymore._

_"Water..." he said again, then, "Sorry, Kaya, sorry..." soon sinking back into unconsciousness._

_On the fourth day, he said it again. "They'll come," he mumbled then, to a gray-faced, sleep-deprived Piriko who'd tried to give him one last transfusion of her husband's blood. Ananshio had asked her to take even more of it, but she'd already gone dangerously past the usual limit for mermen, already higher than for humans. She didn't dare take more and seriously endanger the survival of the husband who had been stolen from her for five years – no matter how guilty he felt._

_"Of course they will," she murmured, finishing the set-up and starting to pump, but keeping herself right next to him to catch every word he said._

_"Tell' em... don' be morons. Keep laughin'. Singin'." He smiled, very briefly. "Luffy. Go faaar."_

_He made a tiny little movement with his hand by that: she wondered if he'd have done something much more grand and sweeping, if he'd had the strength. "Dammit," he whispered, his voice sinking to near inaudible. "Wan' see Elbaf... Dad... Raftel..." He coughed up blood. She wiped it away carefully, noting that the bubbly, raspy sound from his lungs had only increased. Despite all the work she'd done on his lungs, they wouldn't keep going._

_She was never sure whether he'd tried to say "I wanted to see" or "I want to see". It had been impossible to tell._

_"An' listen," he added, voice just a tad louder. He looked as if it took him tremendous effort to speak. "Or it won't work." Just one more laboured deep breath: "Go. On._ On. _" Then he fell back into unconsciousness._

"After that," the notes ended, "the patient stayed unconscious. He stopped breathing two hours later."

*

"Oh," breathed Sanji, the last one to finish reading. He closed the book and clumsily gave it back to Piriko, eyes staring into blankness.

Chopper was loudly trying to choke back sobs. Franky, too, seemed to have a hard time keeping them in, though he struggled.

"That's..." Luffy's voice was low and dark, as he sat bent forward, fists clenched and trembling. "...That's easy for _him_ to say," he said hoarsely.

Then he shot up. "USOPP, YOU DUMMY!" he shouted, the cry echoing in the large cave. Brook fell off his barrel in shock. "Maybe we don't _want_ to keep laughing and singing when you can't be there! Did you even think of that? Maybe I don't _want_ to go far anymore!"

"Luffy..." whispered Sanji, shocked, but not entirely surprised.

"I bet if _I'd_ died, you wouldn't say something like that! And maybe we'd rather be morons 'cause it's no fun without you...!" His voice sank, "...you... you idiot." He sniffled loudly, wiping his eyes and nose.  "Dummy."

"He IS a dummy," Sanji agreed, using present tense just because. To hell with maturity.

"Y-yeah," sniffled Chopper. He breathed in, then shouted, "DUMBASS!"

There was a choked half-laugh, half-sob from Nami-baby. "Mm-m. Yes."

Luffy looked up again, straight at Piriko.

"I want to see him," he said.

 

*

 

"Me, too," said Chopper, and then there was a general agreement from the others. Those who had been sitting down stood up.

"Of course," said Piriko seriously. She stood up, too. "Let me just dissolve the cooling sphere around him. Now that you're all here, there's no problem..." She coughed, and cleared her throat. "I mean, if you want to touch him." Then she hurried away and opened the door behind the moss curtain that they had pointed at earlier.

Luffy looked over at the others, then took a deep breath. But now that he had been angry, he thought he could do this. Before, he might have started shouting in there instead.

Maybe he didn't deserve to be a captain anymore. But Usopp still deserved to get a proper goodbye. And if that Ananshio guy was right, Luffy needed to do this, didn't he? To see if he could find out what to do.

Piriko came out again, waving at him to come in. Luffy nodded and started to walk over there. The others followed him.

He didn't want to hesitate before stepping inside. He'd done enough of that kind of thing, hadn't he? Trying to run away from Usopp, hiding in forget-mist. But his legs slowed down on their own accord once he reached the door, anyway. And the arm he'd raised to turn the handle sank down.

Then suddenly there was another memory-image in his head, one that was much, much older than the others. A ten-year-old boy with curly blond hair and a hat, with a gap in his teeth and a pipe in one hand, looking fierce but smiling. _"Promise me we'll set sail! That we'll escape this kingdom and be free!!"_

Sabo often turned up like that, especially when Luffy had to do something that was hard. But what could he say this time? "You can do it, Luffy" or "Live freely" didn't seem enough, not when he had failed so horribly. _It's not the same_ , he thought. _I wasn't captain then. And it still hurt so much, with you._

And yet the memory-image still helped him get moving again, even so. Luffy breathed out slowly, ran his hand through the moss, found the wooden handle and pulled the door open. He stepped inside, Zoro and Nami and all the others following.

It was really cold inside. Luffy's feet started shifting, his teeth chattering. There wasn't much light, just a small lamp – no, a light dial, hanging by a rope from a hook on the wall. But he could still see. Usopp's body.

It was true, what they'd told him. Usopp still looked... like Usopp, mostly. His skin was the wrong colour – blue and violet and even green in some spots – but it was still all there, at least the parts that weren't under bandages or trousers. And it didn't smell bad. It didn't smell like Usopp either, though, more cold and medicine-y.

Luffy sank down on his haunches at the head of the bed. "So many bandages," he whispered. It was nice of them, the mermaid doctor-lady and the shaman-guy. They'd swapped the bloody ones for clean ones so he would look better.

He reached out his hand to touch Usopp's cheek, letting it rest there. It felt cold and stiff. Not a soft, warm cheek that belonged to a breathing, sleeping person who could wake up any moment. He kept his hand there a while, not caring if he sank into this cold, if he got lost in it.

Nami and Chopper had come in right after him; now the others were following too. He heard Chopper gasping, saw Franky out of the corner of his eye bending down, heard Zoro and Brook's footsteps as they came in behind him. But he wasn't paying attention.

 _Listen. Or it won't work,_ Usopp had said.

Luffy didn't know anything about what ghosts should or shouldn't do. So in the end, he simply had to trust that his friend had known what he was doing. He shut his eyes and tried very hard to listen.

He tried to recall how it felt when Going Merry had spoken to him, hearing words that weren't said out loud but his heart still received. Then he thought back to the first time old man Rayleigh had taught him how to do Colour of Observation Haki. That was to predict your opponent's movements in a battle, so it wasn't really the same... But he still tried to use that state of awareness.

He kept his mind open, holding a part of it empty to listen with, letting it resonate with the _other_ kind of emptiness, even though it hurt. And then he reached out among his crowded memories, doing the opposite of what he'd done in the forest when he'd tried to block them out but they kept coming. He summoned guffaws and giggling and singing, boasts and shrieks and I-think-I-have-something-or-other-disease, ringing serious declarations and whispered conspiracies for raids on the galley, easy chatting while fishing that sometimes went quiet, deep snores and contented sighs, furious challenges and tearful apologies and yells of distress and deep worry, happy cries of triumph and cheer, chortling applause and smacks for being silly and lectures and sensible words and so much laughter and everything, everything Usopp.

And then–

Like a vibration in the air, and then a murmur in his head, and then more than that. It felt both closer and further away than Merry's voice had been; harder to catch and still there, in the very centre of the heart. And just a few words, too few, he wanted more of them...

Go look. You'll find it.

When? thought Luffy. Later? Or now?

Here.

That wasn't quite an answer. But it sounded like 'now'.

Luffy opened his eyes and blinked for a few moments. He turned his head this way and that, as if sniffing for something. And there was a trail in the air, a presence he could follow. He got up, ignoring the others' looks at him, walking over to the other side of the bed, bent down towards Usopp's bag.

He remembered how he'd been talking about the bag with Sanji the other week, thinking it was his own. All this time, it had been lying here, not sunk into the bottom of the bay as Sanji had probably thought...

Inside, there might be things like caltrops, dials, plastic cockroaches. And there would definitely be lots of different ammos, from tabasco and glue to those weird 'Pop Greens' that shot weapon-plants. Two things stuck up through the opening: the newer black Kabuto and the original, but shortened, green Kabuto. There should be a white one, too. Maybe it had broke somewhere.

Luffy's hand hesitated in the air for a long moment, then slowly made for the green Kabuto.  
He grasped it.

Suddenly, something hot, strong and wild coursed through him in an instant from top to toe. It made his hairs stand on end, his toes curl and his teeth ache. He swayed on his feet, then without knowing why he grabbed the bag as well; hurried out of the small cold room not without bumping into both Franky and Nami on the way.

Stopping outside the door, he looked around the cave quickly and fixed on a small, isolated spot on the cave wall in a corner. It was about as far away as the length of Sunny from where he stood. Then he reached into the bag, felt his fingers seize something, put the ammo in the sling, shouted "Tabasco Star!" and let go. The small projectile shot through the cave and landed with a splatter right on the spot of moss.

"Hey, what..." and "What are you doing, Luffy?" sounded behind him, but Luffy was already running real fast to the corner he'd aimed at. It had been smart of him to use Tabasco Star rather than something more explosive while inside this cave... except he didn't think _he_ had made that decision.

"N-not enough," he panted to himself. "Have to try again... Zoro!" he called out to the swordsman who was now standing directly outside the door to the small, cold room. "Hold out two of your swords real close by the wall! But keep 'em in your sheaths! Make it just an inch between them!"

"Huh? Fine." Zoro did so, raising the swords above his head. He looked puzzled and uneasy. "What are you doing?"

"Why tabasco?" asked Robin.

 _Man,_ thought Luffy as he started digging through the bag again, _I'd better not use anything that might harm Zoro's swords if I miss. Better go with another Tabasco Star..._

But just like the first time, his fingers closed on one item all by themselves. His mouth shouted "Lead Star!" and before his mind had the time to go _Wait, what? That's not harmless!_ , his hand had already let go. The bullet flew through the air to bury itself in the cave wall with a loud crack. Luffy ran back half the distance, enough to see that Zoro's swords and sheaths were fine. The hole in the wall was exactly where he'd aimed right between them.

Luffy had trained himself to be good at being accurate when he stretched his limbs long and then attacked to hit an enemy's vital spots. But that was different from being good at throwing or shooting something else, and vital spots were usually not so terribly small. He knew well that he wasn't a marksman.

"Luffy, mind telling me what you're doing?" said Zoro patiently, but Luffy wasn't listening. Panting and sweating, he let go of Kabuto and the bag. He stared at them, leaning on his knees for support.

"What – what the hell's going on?" he gasped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: When the manga and anime diverge on something, I'm going with the manga as canon; but occasionally I might use something from the anime which adds to rather than contradicts the manga. That's why Zoro doesn't know about Yasopp being on Shanks' crew here, as he hasn't been told in the manga (as far as we've seen). Going strictly by manga Nami shouldn't know either: however, since the Daddy-the-Father filler set in Loguetown was based on an idea by Oda, I've chosen to see it as close enough to canon. Nami would have learned about Yasopp there if she didn't before, so that's why I let her know in this story.


	12. Second Council

Absence, Chapter 12: Second Council

 

Nami stared at Luffy, blinked, and stared again. Her thoughts felt sluggish, slow to respond, as she tried to make sense of what was happening. What had Luffy been _doing_ , handling Kabuto and the bag that way, as if... as if his month-long delusion had been true after all? No... no, that couldn't be... But her mind felt dull and numb and so very, very slow. Like her legs had been slow and unsteady just now, as she had woozily stumbled out of the iced chamber to see what Luffy was up to.

She was still shivering, still shaken. That one little hope she'd tried hard not to have – it had still hurt when it got ripped out, more stubborn and deeper set than she had realised. _Why else would there be mermaid healers there?_ a small, childish part of her had, somehow, persisted in thinking.

"Luffy," said Franky slowly, as he ducked under the doorway to exit the iced chamber; he'd been watching Luffy's stunt from there. "You haven't been practicing marksmanship somewhere in secret, have you?"

Luffy was still standing bent over, his hands on his knees, his breathing only slightly calmer than moments ago. He shook his head wildly in reply. "No," he said in an unsteady voice. "It wasn't like... it didn't feel like _me_ shooting. I..." He looked up, his gaze catching Nami's. "You try it, too!" he said, pointing at the green Kabuto on the ground. "See if it's just me..."

Nami swallowed the words _Why me?_ that had been on her tongue – Luffy was right, this needed to be tested on more people, and it might as well be her as someone else – and walked over to where her captain was, her legs still a mite wobbly. Maybe it wouldn't work on her, only on Luffy. Maybe she wasn't even supposed to touch it... She'd have to try anyway. They needed to _know_.

Luffy straightened up before she reached him, but he was still staring fixedly down at the weapon, arms crossed. Not wanting to drag it out, Nami quickly crouched down and grasped the green Kabuto.

"Ah–!" she gasped. At the touch, a charge leapt through her like a great wave, painless but overwhelming, flooding her entirely. "It's like – like electric!" she burst out, grammar forgotten. "But it doesn't hurt..." She normally doled out electricity rather than received it, but she had been hit by a number of lightningettes and static discharges during her stay on Weatheria.

"Oh," said Luffy, interested. "So that's what it's like?"

Nami felt her hand twitch in the direction of Usopp's bag, just a metre away from her. She’d seen Luffy grab the bag right away. Could she resist this impulse? With an effort of will, it turned out to be possible to pull her hand back and keep it still. So the urge was not completely irresistible, but still very strong, like an ingrained reflex. Like... well, like grabbing the ClimaTact in a moment of danger, in fact. It didn't feel _right_ not to take the bag. When she decided to continue the test and reach for it, it was a big relief to give in to the urge.

 _A target. Need to find a target._ The thought seemed like her own, in that the mental voice was hers, as usual. But the impulse behind it was not.

She looked around quickly, just like Luffy had before; but she found herself unwilling to just do what he'd done, whether aiming at a spot of moss or asking Zoro to provide another target. _Too boring._ She was aware that this remark didn't quite feel like her thought either, but there simply wasn't time to delve into the feeling further. She wanted to shoot something right _now_.

What to do... wait, couldn't she simply make her own targets?

"Sun Star!" she heard herself shouting as one of her hands dug into the bag and emerged with three small round things wrapped in grey cloth, held between her fingers. It was a bizarre feeling; she hadn't consciously looked for them, not knowing what the heck a "Sun Star" was nor, indeed, what those looked like. Her mouth and hand seemed to be working on their own. But there was no time to ponder it further; she had already aimed, drawn and let go, three projectiles flying and hitting three spots on the most distant cave wall. They made a simple, sunny pattern of small yellow circles.

"What good is _that_ supposed to do?" Nami said, looking over at Franky for guidance. "It just seems to be regular paint!"

Franky shook his head and shrugged in ignorance. "Don't ask me. Must be new."

"To make things more festive, perhaps?" suggested Brook, picking an earhole pensively.

"Our walls do seem to become more colourful," commented Piriko, looking tranquilly at the yellow spots and the earlier stain from Luffy's Tabasco Star. Nisi giggled a little, eyes round and one hand over her mouth.

"Oh, well." Nami shrugged, one hand diving into her bag again. "Lead Star!" This time she had actually decided on the ammunition she wanted, but she still shouldn't have been able to find it by touch... and yet she did, with this one too. She aimed for the most distant yellow spot and let go, feeling exhilarated as the bullet went right where it was supposed to go. By now, her blood was pounding.

She lowered the Kabuto slowly, reluctantly, then turned her head to meet everyone's looks. Even Robin looked surprised. Zoro's face was half in shadow from where he stood, but for the rest, she saw the same stunned bewilderment she had felt when watching Luffy earlier (and half still felt, if she was honest). Bewilderment, and longing.

"It really did feel like my hands were moving by themselves," she said, then shrugged a bit awkwardly without quite knowing why. There was something strange about being as suggestible as Luffy, even under these very odd and special circumstances. "But not in a bad way. It felt... kind of cool." There was still a tingling feeling in her body. "Does anyone else want to try...?"

Zoro nodded immediately, crossing his arms and moving out of the shadow: his eye was intent though his face still looked gray and drawn. Franky's and Robin's nods were more cautious, and Brook's elegant bow-nod hard to read. But Sanji and Chopper showed the most open eagerness to try it out. As Sanji also happened to be standing closest to Nami right now, she threw him the bag and Kabuto both, one after the other. He caught it and took a step back, trembling. Clearly he too felt that same charge.

By now it seemed a foregone conclusion, but Nami couldn't look away as she watched Sanji hit one of her yellow marks and then hand the weapon over, pale and wide-eyed; crossing her arms against the slowly receding cold, Nami kept watching weapon and bag move from one crewmate to the other, all of them turning into expert marksmen on the spot, and all eerily accurate at finding the right ammunition immediately. Zoro broke what had become a pattern when he threw out one of the Pop Greens instead of aiming for a goal, but he took care of the giant meat-eating plant that came out of it right away. "Felt like cutting something", he said curtly as an explanation. Robin surprised Nami and seemed to shock herself as she let loose a Firebird Star at a spot of moss on the cave wall above the water, scorching it.

Finally, Brook let loose a Glue Star that ended up on the other side of the cave right above the chest that Piriko had retrieved her notebook from. ("You can use that for posting pictures on the wall," he said gracefully to the merfolk family.) As the last one to try out the Kabuto, he then sat down with the others in a loose circle, his hands trembling a little. He put the weapon and the bag right in front of Luffy.

Luffy was the one who spoke up first, putting into words what everyone had to be thinking.

"It's like there's a bit of Usopp in there," he said. He wasn't shaking anymore, but his hands were bunched into tight fists, and he held himself rigidly.

"Like it's possessed," Nami agreed in a low voice. "I didn't know that sort of thing could actually happen..."

"Me either," said Sanji, lighting a cigarette thoughtfully, face tired and drawn. "Thought that was just in shitty ghost stories." He paused, glancing at Luffy as he breathed out smoke. "Hey, Luffy. How come you picked it up to begin with? Did you just feel like it, or what?"

Luffy shook his head. "I was listening..." he said, still looking fixedly at Kabuto. "Usopp told us to listen, right?" he went on slowly, his voice sounding distant. Then finally he looked up, not just at Sanji but at all of them in turn. "So I did. And I heard this really small voice"– he showed with his fingers just how tiny it had sounded – "telling me to look for something in there." He nodded towards the iced chamber.

"Why the green Kabuto?" asked Robin.

Luffy shrugged, a small, oddly contained gesture. "It just felt right."

Chopper crossed his arms, hunching a little. "Does that mean this really is as it should be, then?" he wondered. "Not some kind of mistake?"

"I wonder that, too," said Brook, spinning his cane. "Is this what he wanted us to do all along?"

"Hard to say how we could know for sure," said Nami. She found herself reaching for Kabuto, feeling an urge to test it further. "Wait, I want to hold it again."

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "Hasn't it been tested enough by now?" But Luffy didn't object, so Nami ignored him.

This time, the sensation as she touched Kabuto was a lot milder; a low-powered charge that flowed up her arm in a tingle, through her shoulder and to a small spot right between her collarbones before it retreated, leaving a pleasant warmth behind. After a moment, she reached out with her other hand to touch the bag – but not lift it, only hold onto it – and found an answering vibration there.

As the tingles subsided, she remained highly aware of the shapes and presences of both objects. She wasn't overcome by the same strong desire to find a target and aim for it. And yet...

"Huh. I don't need to shoot it now, but it feels as if I _could_ still hit whatever I aimed at, if I wanted to," she said wonderingly.

"So..." said Sanji slowly, blowing out smoke as he looked up at the distant patch of blue very high above them, "does that mean that the next time we're in battle, me or Nami-baby or anyone else in the crew would be able to use it against the enemy?"

"If it does, then – then that means we do have a sniper again!" Chopper burst out. Nami looked up at him sharply, and Chopper seemed to hear what he'd just said. He shrunk, his face scrunched up. "S-sort of," he mumbled in a small voice, looking down.  "I – I don't mean really."

"No... I get what you mean," said Franky. He seemed to be deep in thought. "But," he added, "it wouldn't work with all things, like the cannons."

Or, Nami thought, things like on-the-spur strategies, tinkering with new inventions, ammunition-making... No, even if the Kabuto could work miracles, even just on the battle side there'd still be so much they'd never get back, let alone everything else that was gone.

"Whoever would hold Kabuto wouldn't have their hands free to fight in their usual way," Zoro pointed out, his tone quite neutral.

"That's right, too," said Luffy, his head to one side as he listened intently.

With an effort of will and a small sigh, Nami loosed her grip on Kabuto and gently put it back on the ground, then pushed the bag back towards Luffy again. She didn't want to let go of them, though she was also afraid of what might happen if she held on for them too long. The longer she held them, the more intensely she felt a comfortable, all too familiar Usopp-like presence; she did realise it might be partly due to wishful thinking and self-suggestion, but it was strong all the same and she'd done plenty of crying already today. "But for how long?" she wondered. "I mean, how long will it be... like this? Until Luffy becomes Pirate King?"

"That's what he'd want, I bet..." said Sanji in a low tone, lowering his head as he stubbed his cigarette against the ground. "Doesn't mean it'll turn out that way." Nami shivered at the gloom in his voice, hearing the hurt and tiredness behind it.

"Perhaps we're moving a bit too quickly," said Robin. She looked over at Ananshio, who was just helping Nisi put up a drawing on the gluey spot on the wall. "I'd like to know what our local 'soul-doctor' says about the situation." He didn't seem to hear her at first, so she sprouted a hand from the wall and poked at him in the shoulder after he'd finished. The merman jumped high; Nisi's eyes went big and wide.

"What is it, Nico Robin?" he asked after turning around, looking apprehensive.

"What are your thoughts on this new phenomenon?" asked Robin, gesturing at Kabuto and the bag. She clearly assumed Ananshio would have seen and heard enough not to need any more clarifying words. He didn't look too confused, either, as he trudged up to where the Strawhats were sitting. (His daughter trailed behind at first, hopping on her tail and crutches, but then her mother called her over from by the basin, and the two of them sat together there for a while, talking in low voices.)

Ananshio scratched his head. "Um... well... Can I hold it?" he asked, looking at Luffy before letting his gaze sweep across them all. "To be honest, this is all new for me, too..."

Nami exchanged glances with the others, seeing her own reluctance reflected in their faces. But in the end she couldn't think of a good reason to deny him. They wanted answers, after all. Neither could the others, apparently: after several long moments when no-one had spoken up, Luffy nodded. Ananshio stepped forward and picked up both the weapon and the bag. He took a step backwards at the touch, eyes widening, then slowly, carefully backed out and sat down directly outside the loose circle of pirates.

Unlike everyone in the crew, Ananshio did not immediately raise the Kabuto and start looking for targets to aim for. Instead he just turned the weapon over several times, as if wanting to gauge its weight or material. Then he carefully put in his lap and repeated the action with Usopp's bag.

"How strange it feels..." he said, not looking up yet. He let go of the bag and put both hands in his lap.

"You're not going to start shooting?" asked Luffy. Ananshio shook his head.

"I don't feel any urge to, like you all seemed to... Probably wouldn't do a good job." He paused, then took a deep breath and went on, turning to Luffy, "You're right, you know. There's a piece of his soul in there. It's anchored to the slingshot in almost the same way souls are anchored to living bodies. Well, not as tightly as that, but it's still similar..." He looked up at them, meeting Nami's eyes for a moment. "But it's only a piece of it. The rest is still free and unattached. I, I really had no idea souls could split themselves..." he mumbled.

"Yeah?" said Franky, glancing at the merman briefly. "I did."

"You too, Mr Franky?" said Brook. "I've long harboured such suspicions myself..."

Franky nodded distantly while Ananshio got up to put Kabuto and the bag back inside the seated circle. "Was thinking about Going Merry," he said softly. Brook settled back respectfully; he'd heard enough stories about their old ship by now to have a good idea of what she meant to the others.

"I was there at her funeral," Franky went on; "I'm super-sure her spirit is at peace. But later, when I built you guys the Sunny... with some help from Iceburg and his folks..." he allowed, "...I just got this feeling couple of times, late at night under the moon, that there was something there in the wood, y'know? Just... something or someone already there, even if it was pretty faint. So. I figured, hey, maybe it was a part of Merry's spirit that had found its way there. Just to help Sunny be the great ship it should be."

There were a few moments' silence as everyone took this in, mulling it over.

"If you're right," said Robin, an unusual soft smile on her face, "then... perhaps she knew before she'd be able to do that, and that might have made it easier for her to leave. Knowing we'd be in good hands when it came to getting a new ship, with shipwrights like you and Iceburg around."

Brook hummed in thoughtful assent, melodious when coming from him. Shifting his legs around, he said, "As for me, I've long had a strong feeling that my old crew still sails with me. It... used to be both a comfort and a burden, to be quite frank, because I wasn't sure they were at rest... But after we buried their bones in West Blue soil on Thriller Bark, I lost that fear. However, I still think the tone dial I carry holds more than their voices alone."

He raised one hand towards his skull, but instead of opening it and taking out said tone dial, he stopped himself, hand hovering in air. Then he leaned his long torso forward and took hold of Kabuto, clasping it towards his chest and breathing slowly. After a little while he raised one hand to his face again, but only to wipe it dry with his sleeve. "Ah... my apologies," he murmured faintly. "I didn't..." He loosened his grip of the Kabuto, putting it in his lap. "It just... I only felt like handling it for a few seconds."

Zoro cleared his throat. He wasn't looking directly at anyone, only into the air. There was a strange smile on his face. Not forced or bitter, but also with little true warmth; to Nami, it looked thin and lost, and as distant as if he'd been smiling somewhere else, to someone who wasn't there to see it.

"He's forcing our hands, you know," he murmured. In his lap, he held onto that one sword of his that he cherished the most, the one with the white scabbard. "With him doing something like this, it's pretty hard for us _not_ to use the weapon the way he wants us to. Right? Throwing away a gift like that would be something you couldn't forgive."

Although there was no naked pain in his voice, something about it together with the forced lightness of his smile made Nami's stomach twist, watching him. _Zoro, Zoro, I know you'll try to go on until there's nothing more to go with, but please try to remember you're not actually a rock._

As Brook finally let go of Kabuto, his movements looking as reluctant as Nami had been, Luffy reached out and took it back. He closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, you're right, Nami. It's calmer now."

"He does seem to be in a very good mood," observed Ananshio.

Luffy pulled his knees up, hugging them. He kept turning Kabuto over, letting it wander from one hand to the other. "He really does want to stay with us," he said slowly. "To keep sailing with us. And fighting. Even if it's only a part of him. But…" Gently, he put the weapon down right next to him, his other hand trailing circles on the stony ground. "I don't know…" His voice was smaller now, a little hoarse around the edges. "…I don't know if I can do what he told us. To keep laughing , singing, dancing. That." He stared out in the air, blinking, his hands closed into fists in his lap. "I don't know if I can do that anymore."

Nami watched him closely. At least, she thought, he was no longer saying he couldn't be a captain anymore, or that he couldn't strive to become the Pirate King. Somehow he seemed to have taken back the mantle of authority and his hold on his dream during the last couple of hours. But they both seemed a burden to him right now, weighing him down rather than giving him joy.

"That ain't good enough, Luffy."

Everyone turned their heads to look at Franky, who'd spoken up so abruptly. The cyborg wasn't looking at anyone, though. Keeping his large arms crossed, he kept his eyes fixed on the floor as he continued. "Just keeping on with things out of duty ain't the way to go on about it," he said roughly. Me, I've had enough of that kinda crap. If we don't do this wholeheartedly and put all we've got on the line… what's the point? That's not how we do stuff, is it? If something's worth doing, it's worth doing with a DON. And if we're not... that ain't gonna be enough to make 'im happy, either."

He paused, then after several more seconds he muttered, "I say that, but I feel the same way as you. I'm not feelin' fine enough that I could go back to living wholeheartedly, either. Not yet." Then he snapped his fingers on the left side of his chest, making a faint metallic sound. "Hurts too much, in there."

Robin nodded slowly, shifting position where she sat. "It does hurt," she said. A melancholy smile tugged at her lips. "But I do think that is still better than feeling nothing at all."

She continued briskly, before anyone else started to reply, "Anyway, I was thinking... eventually, we shall run out of ammunition for Kabuto. We couldn't hope to recreate his arsenal exactly, but I and Chopper have some knowledge of herbs and plants in different ways, and Franky knows explosives and chemicals. Perhaps the three of us could join forces and try our best?"

"Uh... Um..." Chopper looked stunned. But then he straightened up and tugged on his hat in a Luffylike fashion, eyes full of determination. "I never thought I could make something like that –but I'll try! We can try together!"

Franky swallowed audibly. He looked down and hid his face in one of his huge hands for a moment, knuckles towards his forehead. When he looked up again he'd put his shades back on and was attempting a pale imitation of his normal flashy grin. "Sure, babe. Between the three of us, we should be able to cook up some cool ammo that works for us." His smile faltered. "Like you said, it ain't gonna be the same, though."

"Nothing's going to be the same," Nami heard herself saying. She was staring at the cave floor, not seeing much. Her voice sounded bleak even to her own ears.

She waved towards Kabuto and bag without raising her head to look at it. "This is–" _great, amazing, a miracle_ : the words were there in her mind but wouldn't come up through her suddenly much thicker throat, and she had to swallow hard – "is, is, not something we could ever turn our back on."

Her voice sounded positively froglike by now. Coughing to clear her throat, she pulled up her knees and leaned forward, feeling cold again to the point of shivering. "B-but," she stuttered, "but th-there's so much it _c-can't_ do, so much of him we won't get back. We get a, a part of him back" – _that he trusts us with, so he can keep fighting with us_ ; and she was truly grateful, she _was_ – "and, and that's great that we get that much, hardly anyone else ever gets that much… But most of him's still going to leave us. Tomorrow," she finished in a loud whisper. "If we have the funeral then." Not today, surely the others too could see it was far too late in the day by now, even if they weren't as bonecrushingly tired as she was.

"We have to, don't we?" said Luffy simply. Nami looked up. He sat up straighter now, on his haunches, elbows resting on his thighs. "We should have it then. Now that we're all here."  
And he was holding Kabuto again, grasping it tighter as he spoke, making it clear to her just how inclusive that "all" was.

Sanji had finished his cigarette and fished out a new one, but wasn't lighting it, just sat there bent forward holding his elbows. "Earth burial, right?" he said tightly. "It's the normal way for islanders in East Blue." He raised his head and looked at her and the others. "Unless someone's heard differently, like if he ever said something...?" Nami shook her head, hugging her knees tighter at another flash of pain went through her. No-one else had ever heard any wish on that subject, either.

"Then... I guess I'll be the one to build a coffin," Franky said in a thick and extremely gruff voice, arms crossed and head held low. He seemed to wait for some confirmation; Luffy only nodded. "Yeah," said Zoro shortly.

Nami was startled by a cough behind her back and whipped her head around to see Ananshio there. He'd gotten up a while ago to attend to something further down the cave. Now he was evidently back.

"If you want to, you're all welcome to spend the night here," he said. "I'm sure we have enough bedrolls and blankets in our stash. Used to be that whole families in the tribe would hide here when the slavers came."

"I wouldn't mind... we already have bedrolls in our packs, though," said Nami. She felt frankly relieved at the thought of staying put until morning. Sleeping on the Sunny was always homey, comfortable (barring storms) and reassuring, but she hadn't been looking forward to them having to take turns going there by the submarine, perhaps not arriving until after dark. And then they'd still have to return to the cave in the morning – that, or bring Usopp's body back onto the Sunny tonight.

She hoped no-one would have any serious objections to staying. But looking at the others, she couldn't see any open reluctance.

"Well..." said Sanji, "as long as it's all right with Madame Piriko..." Turning his head, he frowned, then his eyebrows shot up. "Say, where is she, anyway? And the little one?"

"Oh, they went to catch dinner," said Ananshio, waving towards the water basin that was connected to the sea. "We figured we ought to do our best to feed you."

There was a rumble from Luffy's stomach. He actually looked surprised.

"You need to eat, Luffy," said Sanji with a weary, fleeting smile. Which seemed like a bizarre thing for anyone to have to say – but then Nami recalled how she had also had to remind Luffy of the fact, back in the clearing. "So, we're staying, right?" Sanji added.

Luffy nodded. "I don't mind, either," he said, shrugging a little. He leaned Kabuto carefully against the bag before letting go. Then he drew a very heavy sigh, swallowed, and got up on his feet. He rubbed his neck and twisted it back and forth a few times; apparently he'd gotten a crick in it from putting his head to one side for so long.

Nami also got up. Looked like the council was over for now, then. Not that the outcome hadn't been pretty much decided from the start – like Zoro had said, their hands had already been forced. Talking had been more about trying to figure out what had happened and say what they felt about it, rather than making a decision. Or at least that's how it seemed to her now.

Something was still nagging at the back of her head, but it wasn’t until ten minutes later that it emerged. By then she and Robin had gone for a walk just a little bit up the mountain path on the inland way that Robin and Sanji had come here. Each had a pail to fill up with water from the small creek with fresh water that ran there, going into the wall again before the path reached the cave.

 _Just because someone's reaching out to you with a great gift doesn't mean you're strong enough to accept it._ That was what rang in her mind as she crouched by the creek to drink the cold, fresh water from cupped hands that were suddenly shaking again. Robin was standing beside her holding up a torch: the wavering light reflected on the rushing water, too fast to make true mirror images.

That was it. She remembered another truly great gift, one of survival and parental claim at the same time, given to her and her sister on one terrible day over ten years ago. That had taken a very long time to accept.

The besouled Kabuto was more than a gift, a great honour, and a miracle; more than a truly heartfelt last wish. It was also a challenge. _To make ourselves deep and large and wide enough to contain him. To be strong enough to accept all the weight the gift carries as he tries to help us keep strong._ Together for as long as the road would allow them. Could they do that? Could they live up to that challenge?

 _We will simply have to,_ she thought, and the clear lucid knowledge brought its own little sigh of relief. The aching weight she felt didn't go away, but still the clarity helped her: they would just have to. That was all. They couldn't reject it and remain themselves.

She rocked back on her heels and lowered the pail into the small stream, Robin waiting patiently beside her. Nami filled the pail and got up on her feet, watching the pattern of minerals on the walls around them, some dull, others glittering in the torchlight. Nothing to think about, in the end.

They were who they were. So they had to.

*

Towards the end of dinner, Piriko cautiously asked the pirates if they had any particular arrangements in mind in order to prepare for the next day, and made clear that she and her husband wouldn't mind helping out, if so.

After a pause, Robin said slowly, "Are you asking us whether we plan to wash him and wrap him up?"

Piriko nodded gently. Robin looked down at the table, then swallowed and said, her voice sounding thinner now, "I... I had assumed we were going to do that." She looked up at the others. "Unless someone disagrees...?"

Luffy and the rest of them shook their heads, most looking taken aback and a bit daunted yet very clear that they would not need assistance from the helpful merfolk in this.

"I – I know how to do that." Chopper looked pale, but raised his chin in determination. "A few times when we couldn't save a patient and there weren't any close relatives, Doctorine would do it."

Robin looked over at him with a tiny smile. "I can help you," she said, her voice warmer now. "I have some knowledge in the area as well." She didn't go into how she had acquired such knowledge.

Nami started to say that she could help, too, but Robin shook her head gently and Sanji urged her to just take it easy and rest now. "You've done enough work getting us all here, Nami-baby," he insisted.

"Yeah, you look way tired," said Luffy bluntly, stretching out with a spoon to take the last of Chopper's casserole. "Like you could fall over any minute."

"I do not!" Nami objected testily, but the words sounded more like a reflex than anything else.

"I'll help." That was Zoro. "I know how to do it." He put the mug he'd been drinking from down, looking very determined despite the rings under his eyes and the unhealthy colour of his skin.

Chopper opened his mouth as if he wanted to point out that Zoro looked exceedingly tired as well, but then he snapped it shut again. "If you really want to," he mumbled, looking away. Luffy, too, only widened his eyes a bit, then nodded and sat back. "Okay."

"I'll go get the sheet," Zoro announced, getting up from the table.

Chopper nodded, rising to his feet as well and switching into Heavy Point to get human hands. "We should start right away. It's getting late." Ananshio gave him a pail full of warm water, while Piriko handed over a pile of towels to Robin. Zoro had just finished digging out the white sheet he'd brought from the ship when Luffy also stood up and said, "Wait."

Then he went over to the curtain of hanging moss, lifted it aside and opened the door under it into the small iced room, which was already a little warmer. Slowly and gently, he coaxed the blue-and-white armband off of Usopp's left arm. It was cold and stiff. He stood there for a few more seconds, then went out, hat pushed down well over his eyes.

Later, as they prepared the bedrolls and sleeping bags, he put the cold armband under his pillow so it would warm up until morning.

 

*

An hour later, everyone finished with their tasks and went to bed. The lights were blown out and switched off. There were typical little night-time noises from everyone, but other sounds around them were different: the distant sound of waves against rocks was muffled with subterranean echoes, and now one could hear the trill of the mountain creek in the path leading down to the cave that wasn't noticed before.

Some of them fell asleep almost as soon as their heads hit the pillow, being completely wrung-out and exhausted from the events of the day. Others stayed awake for far longer, staring out into the dense blackness, or drifted in and out of shallow, uncertain sleep. But by midnight they had all sunk deeply into sleep. First to a pure dreamless floating; then, after dwelling in that rest, strengthened by it, they were all stirred, prodded, drawn to move from there, finding themselves in the innermost reaches of dream country.


	13. Pieces of Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: this whole chapter is in present tense.

Absence, Chapter 13: Pieces of Eight

 

**Brook**

*********

He is a child again, small enough to fit into the old eagle's nest at the top of a very high tree where he's dozing. Round-faced and chubby-legged, he's all flesh and blood wrapped up in a skin that feels nice and warm in the morning sun. He feels utterly safe and at ease. Clearly he must have slipped out of the house and run into the deep forest behind it, just for the sheer fun of it.

Suddenly there's a _toc!_ as something thuds into the underside of the nest. "Huuh?" Getting up on one elbow, he looks out over the edge only to nearly get hit in the head by a pine cone. "Hey!" he exclaims, looking down.

Far down on the forest floor is a boy his own age, with black curls like his own but also a very long nose, grinning wide as he looks up at him with a small slingshot in his hand. "Hey, Brook!" he calls out. "Let's go explore stuff together!"

"Okay!" Brook calls back. "Just wait for me!" He hurries down, quite precariously at first with the branches far apart for his small legs and short frame. But he pushes on, and the further down he climbs, the taller he gets. By the lowest branch he's grown back into his adult length, and once his feet touch the forest floor, his flesh is gone: he's just Bare Bones Brook again.

He sighs over that, just a little, but the child who must be Usopp doesn't seem to care about the change, or even notice. No, he just tugs at Brook's trouser leg impatiently, then lets go and runs a few step ahead. "Come on, let's go!" They set off through the deep green forest. Despite Brook's long legs and light frame Usopp is always a few steps ahead, and since Brook doesn't know where they're going, that's fine with him. There's a smell of adventure in the air. Brook feels just as excited as the small Usopp seems to be.

They half-walk, half-run uphill and downhill, through thick undergrowth and grassy clearings. Most of the woodlands look unfamiliar to Brook, but some paths remind him strongly of his childhood. Bit by bit, Usopp starts to appear taller as well, as the trees grow sparser. When they step out in the open, he looks almost exactly like when Brook last saw him alive.

They're at a high plateau overlooking the sea. It's quite narrow, with the precipice down to the waves below only about thirty steps from where Brook is standing. Usopp has already run ahead, standing not far from the edge, strong winds blowing his hair every which way. But Brook stays transfixed to the ground. There's something utterly strange about the sea and the sky. Strange... and yet frighteningly familiar.

Instead of meeting in an orderly line of horizon, sky tears into sea and vice versa in a ragged, chaotic zig-zag; at two points, they even fail to align exactly, leaving spots of nothingness peeking through. The sea doesn't move like it should, waves flickering and turning themselves inside out; the water vibrates with odd, metallic colours and looks from up here as if it had a coarse grainy texture. There is not even a regular beat of waves crashing onto rocks, just a low, rhythmical murmur, ominous and compelling.

If he could, Brook would turn even whiter. "This is..." he whispers. In his waking hours, he's managed to forget all but the faintest details of what happened after his first death, before his detached spirit returned to the world. But in his dreams, he sometimes remembers. "…The Sea of Yomi," he finishes, voice trembling.

Now, he recognises it. This is the sea one must cross to reach the shores of Yomi, or Hades, or Hel, or whatever other name bestowed on that realm of shadows, lying far, far away on the other side.

"Yeah," says Usopp. "Isn't it great?" He points towards the furthermost patch of the sea, where you can just about spy a clear blue sky and happy, placid waves. Brook can see no shadow of fear on his face. "There, see?" he goes on. "Doesn't it look adventurous? It _pulls_ at me." He takes a deep breath. "Doesn't the air taste good?"

There's a steely tang to the air, but when Brook breathes in, he must admit the wind that blows through his hair and makes his jacket flap still smells like the wind of Adventure. "Well... maybe," he concedes, then clasps his hands behind his back, standing up straight against the wind. "Aren't you afraid at all?" he wonders. He can't recall if _he_ was, back then.

"Not really..." Usopp's smile turns a little wistful, as if he half wishes he were. "Guess I should be, but..." He turns towards the ocean before him, studying it for a while. "Maybe just a little bit," he allows finally, then shrugs, the wistfulness already gone. "Not really much anymore." He's back to looking excited and expectant.

"But," says Brook. "But, but… I don't…" _want you to leave. Why couldn't I give you my Devil Fruit?_ "...Mr. Usopp, you won't…" _be able to return_ "…you can't… do you really have to?" It's a stupid question, but he had to say it, had to question if the sniper couldn't try to hang on, couldn't try to be amazingly stubborn for just a little longer.

Usopp drops his gaze towards the ground, scuffing the windswept grass with his feet. "I didn't want to go," he says softly. "I wanted to stay with you guys. I still do. I don't want to go, but I do. I want to stay, but… it keeps pulling at me, you know?"

"I do know, " murmurs Brook. Yes, he remember a pull like that, quite irresistible at first, even though he was ultimately turned away from his destination once his devil fruit's power manifested.

He steps closer to the edge and cocks his head, looking out at the uncanny sea again. "Now, how did I cross this again?" he asks himself in a mumble. "Did I simply float, like a ghost, or was there something else...?" Ghostly floating would seem to be the most obvious method, the one Usopp will probably take... but right now, that is hard for Brook to imagine. Usopp seems so corporeal and earthbound as he stands next to him.

 _That's because this is a dream_ , remarks a sober part of him, one that doesn't speak up too often. Brook feels a stab of pain inside his ribcage.

"Besides..." mumbles Usopp now, "I have to go there if I want to be brave." He crosses his arms, standing next to Brook. Then he gives his crewmate a hopeful grin. "Maybe I could use a bit of lift-off."

"Oh?" says Brook musingly. "I see..." The sky above them is darker, now. A fog creeps in through the trees, over the sea. He thinks he can hear a very faint sound of bells, striking.in the far distance. Then it's gone.

"Wait!" he exclaims, turning back to his friend. "Do you mean–" But Usopp isn't there anymore, or else the fog has covered him, swallowed him up as it has with everything else. Or it's Brook that has been carried away by the fog. The ground below him is all sandy beach, now, no more windswept grass. But he can't see a thing.

He wanders to and fro in the fog for a short while. Though he has a feeling that bells are still striking somewhere out there, it must be outside his range of hearing, for he doesn't hear them again. But when he wakes up shortly afterwards, there's a whole complete melody inside his skull.

 

*

The tune in his head is the one he's been pursuing for weeks without quite getting it right. Now, it finally holds together from beginning to end, deceptively simple.

At breakfast, Brook notes with relief that the atmosphere is a lot less tense than the day before. Not light, by any means, but calm. Yet he stays fairly quiet for all that, making only a desultory attempt at a skull joke. He needs to hold onto the tune, keeping it going. So he can't lose it again.

 

*

After they have all arrived at the right place, after Sanji and Zoro have finished digging and climbed up out of the earth, Brook raises his violin. At Luffy's urging, they've picked a spot that's both high up and close to the sea; in fact, it doesn't look all that different from the cliff in Brook's dream, he thinks. Perhaps Luffy had a similar dream. Brook, however, is facing away from the sea.

"If you will allow me," he says to his crew, "I would like to play a new song I have made. It doesn't have any words, not yet. I call it 'Captain Usopp'."

Standing straight, he looks up at the sky and the treetops, as the melody finally floats out from his head via strings and bow into the world, spreading out to everyone in the crew, to the green of the cliff, the salty air of the sea, even to the freshly made coffin beside the open grave.

The song hasn't turned out quite as lullaby-like as he first thought; it has a similar simplicity and tenderness to its rhythm, but there's also something more driven to it. It has a beat one could walk a long way to.

 _I'm sorry_ , he thinks. _I named it after you... but this one is more for us who are staying behind._ It is a tune for remembering and for holding on; for staying close to all the pieces of Usopp they carry with them, including the one tied to the green Kabuto. It is about what people need to know how to do, when they seek to go forward without losing what they are.

After he's finished, he steps back and is then quiet for the rest of their impromptu ceremony until the end. He's content to listen to seabirds and waves, and to those of his crewmates who feel compelled to speak. Nami sings an actual lullaby from East Blue that Brook hasn't heard before. It's a sweet, brief song and he is, for a while, overcome with tears.

At the end of it, as everyone has had their say or their silence, Brook wipes his eyes and straightens up when Luffy nods towards him. He draws the bow over the strings for the opening chord. Then he pauses, as everyone turns their heads to the sound, recognising it. It is the start of "Binks' Sake", which he hasn't played for over a month now.

Usually he will either play this song in a happy, bouncing fashion, or in a slower and more melancholy way. This time he intends for something in-between: measured, yet celebratory.

"This song," says Brook, and he is proud that his voice rings clear and steady where he stands, looking not at the grave anymore but out to the eastern sea, "is a song of life and joy and companionship. But it's also a song of freedom and adventure." _So may its sound be the winds of adventure to lift you up, to help launch on your way where you must go. To hold you up as long as they can._

He raises the bow once more, and starts playing.

******

**Chopper**

Chopper is sitting on the banks of a small burbling creek. Rolling green hills surround him, with pine and birch woods at a distance in both directions. Even further away there are higher hills and mountains. Two of them still have snow at the top. There are no houses within view, nor any bridges, walls, fences or even roads.

It's pleasantly sunny, not too hot. The creek is small and shallow. Even if he'd be clumsy enough to fall in, he wouldn't be in any real danger.

And Usopp is there, on the opposite side of the creek, dipping his feet into the water. It feels as if he's been there for a while now, just relaxing and taking it easy along with Chopper.

"Are you sure?" Usopp asks him now. "You don't have to, you know. I'm fine."

Chopper nods, not surprised that Usopp knows. Maybe they've already been talking about it now, even if he can't remember. Maybe Usopp can just tell. "I know. But I do want to. More than just a wish, too. It feels right."

Usopp puts his head to one side and splashes his feet around. After a moment, he says, "The others might not understand, you know. They'd probably say you're brave enough already. Or they could think it means you're going to push your own dream to the side."

Chopper frowns. "Well, that's dumb. There's no way I could ever forget my first dream. And they're not conflicting." He picks up a long stick and pokes it into the water, all the way to the bottom, dipping his hooves in. The water feels cool and nice, not too cold. "And I know I can be plenty brave at times, I _know_ that. That's not what it's about."

He glances over at Usopp. "It's not the kind of goal that you just reach one time and then it's over, right? It's something you live by, that you keep holding yourself to, and if you fall short you try again." An attitude; a readiness. A way of life, even, or so he figures.

Usopp nods, apparently satisfied with this. "Okay." He leans forward and lowers an arm into the water, lifting up tiny pebbles from the bottom, then the other arm too. "Look, Chopper! Little fishes!"

Chopper scoots closer. "Oh! They're cute. Way too small for anyone to eat, though." He pokes around with his stick, sending the fishes darting around, then bends down trying to catch them just to hold in his hand for a second. But they're too small and swift.

Usopp pulls his hand back up and also leans forward, looking down. "You know... you could start practicing embellishing things. I know that's not really your style, but you could always try." He waves at the fish. "Like, these things could be trained piranhas who would eat the bones from our fingers if they weren't our friends. That's a pretty small embellishment."

"It is?" Chopper stares down at the fishes, imagining them with vicious lines of teeth and an extremely aggressive instinct. Then he giggles as one of them nibbles at his ankle, tickling him. It's weird, but the laughter makes the big sad weight inside him feel even heavier by contrast. Maybe not unbearable, maybe not anymore, but still very present. Yet on the surface, the sun is smiling and the air smells fresh.

"Oh... Look, Usopp!" He shifts to Heavy Point without thinking, so he can stand up in the shallow creek without feeling too weak. "A bigger fish is coming!" Grabbing his crewmate by the wrist – it feels warm and alive – he points downstream at the gold-spattered fish about a feet long that is leaping up against the current, like a salmon.

"Wow!" Usopp cries out, standing up too. "That's the Golden Fish of Adventure!"

"R-really?"

"Yep! Come on, let's see if we can catch it!" Chopper lets go of his hand and puts his stick on a rock. Usopp runs forward, crouching down with his hands open to intercept the leaping fish. But it proves too quick and gets past him. Chopper dives at it – there! – and then, then he has it, holding the squirming, shimmering, beautiful fish firmly despite all its struggling. But the Adventure Fish is a cheater: it squirms again and then actually shrinks, enough for Chopper to lose his hold. Before he can adjust, the fish has leapt out of Chopper's hands and down into the water. It glitters once more, and vanishes.

Then there's a tug on his hat and a tap on his shoulder, but when Chopper turns around there's nobody there anymore.

That, too, doesn’t surprise him all that much. Quietly, he takes his stick and walks out of the creek and up the small bank, shifting back into Brain Point at the top of the slope. He sits down in the sunny grass, the sky so high and blue above him. A gentle breeze passes by.

"I want to become a brave warrior of the sea," he tells the wind and the grass, the woods and distant mountains, the rushing creek and its tiny fish. The wings of his resolve are beating steadily inside him.

He sits there in the sunlight for a little while longer before waking up.

 

*

The white Kabuto has been lost in the battle, likely by falling into the sea. Maybe one day some mermaid or merman will find it; maybe it's sunk too deep for that. In any case, it's gone, for now.

But apart from the besouled green Kabuto, the black Kabuto also still remains. And nobody objects when Chopper suggests, during breakfast, that he bring Black Kabuto to the burial site in his backpack. A slingshot needs ammunition, though, so Sanji empties a leather pouch he's kept salt in (giving the salt to Piriko) and then he, Luffy and Nami aid Chopper in choosing a small arsenal. Chopper keeps Green Kabuto in his lap as he searches through Usopp's bag, still marvelling at how his hands just seem to find the right item by themselves.

He holds those items in his mind as they walk up the path inside the mountain, as they wait on the slopes outside while Franky builds the coffin; as he puts his Heavy Point shoulders to the front end once it's finished, helping Franky carry it the rest of the way. There are many other things in his mind, but it's easier to grab hold onto something small and concrete.

A Gunpowder Star, a Firebird Star, a Green Star Sargasso. And two caltrops. That's all.

 

*

After Brook has finished his wondrous new song, the chords are still reverberating inside Chopper’s small frame in Brain Point, his cheeks already wet. He wipes them off on his furry arms, shrugs off his pack and steps forward. Carefully, he opens the coffin lid as the others watch in respectful silence. Then Chopper gently puts Black Kabuto on Usopp's shrouded chest, leaving the leather pouch next to his left hand.

He never got a chance to have a funeral for Doctor. Afterwards, he thought of Wapol's whole castle as Doctor's grave. Too much of Chopper had gotten frozen then, buried in guilt and regret; he'd needed battle allies, shouted declarations and a miracle to thaw. But he won't freeze like that again. That's not going to happen.

He stands there for several long seconds with his eyes pressed shut, breathing in and out slowly and heavily, his chest feeling weighed down, shrunk in. Then he opens his eyes and nods.

"I will. I promise," he whispers. Shyly, he puts one hand on the bandaged right hand, just for a moment; a couple of heartbeats. Then he steps back, letting go.

 

*******

**Robin**

 

There's a creaking sound - no, there's two different types of creaking noises, both utterly familiar. Rope, and wood. Not Adam wood, either. She opens her eyes to see mast, sails, netting, railings. A crow's nest; a pirate flag. And clouds.

She gets up to her feet and looks around. The flag and main sail both have Strawhat Jolly Rogers, but this ship is not the Sunny. A few more details to check, then she's sure of it: it's the Going Merry.

Merry looks to be in as good a shape as she's ever seen her, with just a few signs of damage. In fact, it looks like the same state she had when Robin first sneaked aboard, after leaving Whiskey Peak. How new they had been to the Grand Line then, those five from East Blue; how charmingly naïve she'd found them...

It registers, belatedly, that not all the clouds she can see are above the ship. Some are level with it. And some, she sees when looking over the railing, are below it.

Robin quickly glances upward. No, there’s no inflated Skypiean octopus to gently take the ship down to the water. But Merry’s certainly not riding a Knock-Up Stream either; she's floating in calm serenity, not downwards but on a level - maybe even at a faint incline upwards.

"So what keeps it up, then?" she muses to herself, as she climbs the steps leading to the bow. "Faith? Hope?" She's amused at how she seems to be thinking out loud for once. "Curiosity?" She reaches the bow and stops for a moment, then resumes walking in a more careful way. Usopp is there on the figurehead, sitting crosslegged with his back to the ship. The rams' head and neck look golden in the evening sun.

"There you are," she notes, as if she has expected it. Perhaps she should have: it is somewhat logical, once she thinks about it.

Usopp turns his head, brightens up and half turns his body around in his seat. "Hiya."

She looks at him, tilting her head, swallowing tightly. "Ah..." she starts, then falters, not sure how to go on.

"I know, I know, it's Luffy's seat." Usopp shrugs and puts a finger to his lips. "Don't tell him, okay?"

"No, I meant… not that…" Pausing for a moment, Robin then blurts out, "You're not transparent."

Usopp raises his eyebrows. "Well... neither is Merry," he points out. "Or you, for that matter. You're not the real Robin, you know."

Robin raises a bewildered eyebrow. "I'm not?"

Usopp drums his fingers against the wood and spins around so he faces her entirely. "Well, you _are_... but not the body-one. You're just dreaming, so you could just as well be see-through yourself."

"Oh. You mean like that." Of course she is dreaming; of course she's known that from the start. It's not in the least unusual for her to be dreaming of Usopp, after all, nor of being back on the Merry. But her ordinary dreams don't feel like this, so warm, present, lifelike... She can't help but feel stupidly disappointed.

Ah, well. Usopp has half turned away again, not intruding on her thought, looking out into the sky. She looks out as well, as the soft thick light of a sun close to setting permeates the clouds around them, while patches of dark sea can be seen far, far below. The sun is behind them: they're travelling towards the east.

She puts a hand against the solid wood of the figurehead's base, then leans her forehead against it. _Merry, I don't understand,_ she thinks. _How can it be that a child of darkness is rescued and survives, while those of light and warmth have to go away?_ She sighs a little, shoulders sagging. Not truly a child of darkness, no; it's wrong to think that way. At least she still has enough self control not to say this out loud, even in a dream. The mind will fall into old patterns, now and then.

"What _is_ holding us up?" she asks again, this time more addressed to Usopp.

"Wings," he answers immediately. He turns to face her again, now letting his legs dangle on each side of the figurehead. "You haven't seen them? You have to find the right angle for it, 'cause they really _are_ transparent, but they're definitely there!" He points first to one side of the ship, then the other. "Can't you see there's a shine there?"

Robin focuses. Now that he says it, there does seem to be a certain sparkle outside the port side of the ship, right by the foremast. She tilts her head to the side and takes a few steps, then one more, and then she sees the outline of a great wing in shimmering silvery lines, with sparkle both yellow and green around it, stretching out far beyond the ship. It reminds her of condor wings.

She looks over at the starboard side, too, and now she can make out the other wing there, just as iridescent. "How remarkable."

"They're the Wings of Story," says Usopp proudly. "That's what keeping her up. I think. It sounds good, anyway, doesn't it?

Robin nods. "I suppose that is half the point." She gives the wings another thoughtful look. "Perhaps the left one could be the Wing of Story, and the right one the Wing of History."

Usopp whistles inwards. "Good one!"

Robin is quiet for a few long moments, leaning her elbows on the railing and looking out at the clouds. "You know," she tells him, "I will go back and read the poneglyphs as soon as I can. Tomorrow." _After the funeral._ "It doesn't feel right, after all, leaving a story interrupted."

He looks as if he's proud of her and smiles, but doesn't say anything. Robin thinks back to Sanji's words from the council, how he'd always thought Usopp would someday in the future be the one to tell the world stories of them. _Who the hell’s going to tell those stories now?_ Sanji had wondered. It was not a matter Robin had much considered before, but these past few days her mind has returned to it.

"I'm just an archaeologist, you know," she says to him now. "Not a storyteller. That is not my talent or calling."

Usopp has tucked one leg under him, the other still dangling. He cups his chin in one hand thoughtfully. "But if you want people to learn about history, you'll have to tell it in a way that's easy to get. Right? _Our_ history, too," he adds.

Robin puts her head to one side. "Something to that," she admits. "I'd keep the story to what really happened, though. No extravagant flourishes." _Probably._

He casts a mock-scowl in her direction, then shifts position on the figurehead and says lightly, "Not even of a dark and mysterious kind?"

That gets a small, surprised laugh out of her. "...Maybe," she admits. "Just a little." It aches inside. But no veils, no barriers. She's right here, right next to him and Merry. The wood is still warm under her arms.

Usopp turns his head and lets out a little yell, pointing at a big shape ahead of them and to the left. "Hey, look! It's Skypiea, isn't it? All those trees... I can see the beanstalk!"

"Then I guess it has to be Upper Yard," says Robin. "Let's look for the Golden Bell." They wait half a moment, then they both exclaim: "There!" at the same time. Usopp starts to chuckle and Robin smiles widely, until she has a thought and turns serious.

"Usopp," she says. "If we come back here one day, if we ring the bell again... will you listen to it? Can you promise that?"

Usopp looks at her, his eyes a little wider, but still smiling. "I would like to. But... I don't know for sure if..."

She's not interested in hearing that. "Promise!" she says impulsively, quite unlike herself. "If you promise you will listen, I promise we will all go there to ring it after Raftel. Safe and sound."

"Well... I..." In the end, he can't resist it, when put like that. "All– all right, then! Just don't make me wait 400 years, okay?" There's a brief laugh, but now he's getting smaller and more distant for every second. Robin feels herself being pulled back, and only barely manages to call back a hurried "We won't!" before they fade away and she wakes up, seeing daylight.

*

After breakfast, Nisi hops up to Robin on her crutches, looking shy but determined. She hands her a basket with two small, but beautiful water lilies, pointing at the water and mumbling to the effect that she's picked them from there and Robin can have them now, maybe for the funeral if she wants. Robin accepts the flowers with grateful solemnity.

She keeps the basket on one hand as they make their way up through the mountain path. Zoro and Sanji are carrying Usopp on a stretcher this part of the road, but it's Robin that keeps him from falling off, four arms blooming from the stretcher to make sure his shrouded body remains on it.

They emerge into crisp sunlight. The air feels fresher today than yesterday. On the mountain slopes, while Franky goes off to start making the coffin, Robin begins to pick wild flowers to add to the basket. She keeps picking during the long walk to their destination. Though she only takes the prettiest ones, her basket is quite full when they arrive at the cliff.

 

*

She steps up to the open coffin as Chopper has finished. Her hands are almost entirely steady as she starts to carefully put the flowers down into the coffin. Recalling the dream helps; she feels as if there's still a dream-Merry in the sky, watching her.  
Robin hasn't planned on saying anything. But as she takes out the last few flowers, words come to her anyway. She starts talking without knowing where her thought will lead her, letting the words stumble in a way she hardly ever does.  
"There'll be no chains. Nothing to bind you." She puts down the water lilies, one to each side around his head. And then a beautiful wild rose she found by her feet, right as the trees opened up before the cliff. "You're leaving because you have to. You're staying with us because you want to."

There's a burning sting inside her, again; she holds onto it, as her hand holds on to the edge of the coffin. It's odd: part of her still can't help being grateful she can feel the ache. But now she needs to swallow to go on, in a softer and slower tone. "We can't tie you to us, even if we knew how. If we did... it might just turn the way it did here before, eventually, with the island's curse." And he was always a free pirate, maybe freer in his way than most of them.

"So. No chains. If we tried you'd be mad at us, right?" A crooked smile on her lips. Then she looks down at the ground. "That's all I wanted to say."

 

*****

**Sanji**

In the city of canals and shipwrights, a pirate chef is walking hurriedly, head bent at a low angle as he keeps staring fixedly at the ground. He's following a trail of blood drops.

He's back to doing this, like so many nights before. But this time, it's not dark here: it's a clear, sunny day. There are other people about on the street, and Sanji hasn't even broken into a run yet. This is much closer to how it actually was on that day in Water 7, except for Sanji being alone.

He's aware of these differences, but they don't make him slow down or lift his head. His heart is pounding. This takes much too long. Maybe he should start running–

And he stops.

He was mistaken, he sees now. They're not drops of blood, after all – not anymore, at least. They're tiny, red flowers, growing out of the cracks in the stone, one stem at every spot and many diminutive petals. Miraculous and beautiful.

It gets just a little easier to breathe. He inhales slowly. Then he lets out the air and starts walking again, still following the trail but at a slower pace.

The red flowers lead him away from the expected path towards Franky House on the waterfront, and instead into a quiet residential street he can't recall ever having seen before. At the end of the street is a low, grassy slope leading up to a tall hedge; behind the hedge he sees several tree-tops peeking up. It's not very Water 7-like at all.

It's a little harder to see the red flowers in the grass than on the street, but still not difficult. Sanji walks up the hill and then along the hedge, looking for an opening. He considers kicking through the hedge if need be, but realises he'd prefer not to. He gets the feeling that just breaking in by force would not be wise, that it would disrupt something important.

It takes a bit of looking, but at last he spots another red flower right at the foot of the hedge. Taking it for a hint, he tries sweeping aside a few twigs and does find an opening large enough to squeeze through. On the other side, there are no more of the small red flowers. Here the trail stops.

The place beyond the hedge is an orchard, lovely and peaceful. Most trees are bearing fruit: he sees peaches and nectarines, cherries and pomegranates, even though they shouldn't all bear fruit at the same time. A few are still in bloom, like the apple and orange trees, with bees and bumblebees buzzing among the blossoms. Their fragrances are sweet in the air, mingling with the full, ripe scent of the fruit on other trees. Peacocks are striding across the well-kept lawn; blackbirds sing in the trees and he can even hear the unseasonal call of a cuckoo. Through the orchard a small stream is winding, with a tiny bridge built over it. As Sanji crosses the bridge, he starts to hear the sound of someone snoring.

He doesn't hurry up, but keeps moving steadily as he looks around for the sound's source. The closer he gets, the more familiar it sounds; in the end he's not terribly surprised, but still oddly relieved to find Usopp in the shade of a pear tree. Looking entirely unhurt and well, he's lying on his side with one hand under his ear.

Sanji sits down next to him, cross-legged on the ground. He's quiet for a long moment. Yes, Usopp is really sleeping; smiling, even, as if he's dreaming something pretty nice. Then Sanji reaches out and takes hold of his shoulder, shaking him gently. "Hey. Wake up," he says. After a moment, he adds, "Wake up, Longnose."

He only just about has time to get afraid it won't work before there is inaudible mumble and a long, slow stretch. Then Usopp rubs his eyes and brightens as he looks up at Sanji. "Oh, hiya. You made it."

A relieved smile tugs at Sanji's own lips in response. "This time," he says, while Usopp unceremoniously uses his knee to help haul himself upright. He wonders if he could have found this place on any other of the nights he was back in Water 7. The blood never looked like flowers to him before, but maybe he didn't look at it the right way then, only seeing what he expected to see...

Well. Maybe it doesn't matter much, in the end. He's here now.

Usopp just leans over and pats Sanji on his shoulder, then sits back cross-legged and gestures at the orchard around them. "Pretty neat place, huh? There's a hedge just like this one around Kaya'a house back home. But I knew a spot where I could always get in."

Sanji's hand has gone through pockets and found a box of cigarette all on its own. "That's the girl that gave us Going Merry, right?" he says as he takes one out and starts to search for a lighter. "Did you go to see her often?"

"Yep, every day," says Usopp, looking up at the tree above them, its branches heavy with golden pears. "So I could lie to her. It made her laugh."

"Huh," says Sanji, lighting the cigarette and inhaling, breathing in nicotine and orchard together.

Suddenly Usopp jumps to his feet and puts one hand over his heart. "Yes, Sanji," he proclaims, "I promise to look after Nami and Robin!"

"...What??"

Usopp picks two pears from a low branch, then sits down again. "That's what you would tell _me_ to do, wouldn't you? If it was the other way around."

Sanji clouts Usopp on the head. "Smartass," he says grumpily and a little thickly. "That's nothing to make shitty jokes about." He can't quite stop himself from smiling, even so.

"Anyway," Usopp says more seriously, looking down at the grass and rolling one of the pears back and forward, "I don't have anything like that. Not now. I know Luffy and Zoro and Nami will do their best with Kaya and the boys one day. Chopper's gonna handle Elbaf, and Luffy or Nami will talk to Dad, I bet. So... nothing like that." He puts the other pear on the top of Sanji's knee. "Here, have one. They're really good."

"About Kabuto," says Sanji abruptly, letting the pear stay where it is. "The green one. We didn't take that the wrong way, did we?" He's suddenly afraid they've made a big mistake, that they were too eager to interpret that strange phenomenon in one way only. What if it was only that one time, only to say goodbye...?

Usopp shakes his head, smile big and warm. "Nah. You got it. Luffy heard me." He bites into his pear, getting juice all over his chin.

"If..." Sanji begins, then coughs to clear his throat, looking away at a nearby peach tree. He continues in a lower voice, "...If it takes me a long time to find All Blue, longer than making Luffy the Pirate King, do you... do you think that part of you could hang around a little longer? Waiting a little until I find it?"

He turns his head to look back at Usopp, who has a wistful look on his face but a mouth full of pear.

"I'd wanna, sure," he says seriously, between chomping and munching; then he swallows, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. "Maybe I'll be able to do that. I don't know that I _can't_. But I don't know if I can, either."

"Mmh." Sanji nods, stubbing out his cigarette. Truthfully, he hadn't dared hoping for more. He bites into his own pear. It tastes wonderful.

They sit in quiet underneath the pear tree for a while, the shadow of leaves moving on the ground with the faintest of breezes.

"Luffy," says Usopp suddenly, spinning the core of the pear around with a serious look.

"Yeah, I will," says Sanji, understanding. "As well as I can."

Usopp nods. "Good." He tosses the pear core high, smiling again now.

Sanji lies back on the ground with his arms under his head, looking up at the trees above them, the clouds far beyond. Usopp lies down as well, one arm in the grass and another on his belly. The little stream is rushing, the bumblebees buzzing. The cuckoo calls. No city noises from outside the hedge seep through.

On impulse, Sanji reaches out to touch Usopp's shoulder again, just because – but this time, his hand goes right through it, touching not grass or earth but cold stone. He's running out of dream.

Yet he's allowed to linger for a few more moments in an inbetween-state, still smelling and seeing the orchard, sensing both the grassy ground and the bedroll on the cave floor. And right before he wakes up for real, he thinks he can feel the weight of a hand on his head, tousling his hair for just a second.

 

*

The others hold up torches and the light dial to light their way, as he and Zoro carry the stretcher up through the mountain tunnel, Robin helping them. It isn't terribly hard, not compared to how it was going down the same path on the day before. Just echoes and footsteps and hollowness. Still, it does feel a little easier once they're out in the sunlight, in fresh air that smells of autumn. The intense summer heat is gone, now.

They wait for Franky, then walk off together towards the south. There's only the merfolk's description to go by, but as they reach the high cliff with good soil, overlooking the sea to the west as well as the east, Sanji has to nod and say _"yes, this is right"_. There is even a natural headstone in the form of a single, tall, reddish boulder at the centre of the plateau. Robin takes a look at it and says it must have been there for at least five hundred years but originally came from somewhere else. There aren't any signs of an earlier inscription, though. _Yes,_ thinks Sanji. _This will do._

He takes the spade he's worn strapped to his back, joining Zoro as he starts to dig. The soil's not all that soft, so he has to work for it. That is good. It makes it harder to think, easier to just focus on each single push and dig of the spade, each single toss of earth up in a pile beside the hole. And then the next one, and the next one. Until it's finished.

Then going on like that, climbing up again in order to stand with the others. To listen to Brook's new melody, to watch as Chopper opens the lid and places weaponry in it; as Robin spreads beautiful flowers and speaks; as Zoro also speaks and closes the lid, before Robin and Luffy use their powers to carefully lower the coffin into the earth. To listen also to the waves hitting the rocks below them, the seagulls calling, the deep wide silence of the cliff. A silence he feels he can lean against.

He isn't breaking down, not now. The tears come because they want to, that's all.

 

***

**Nami**

 

There is a hidden corridor that goes right through the current of ordinary life. Nami never used to know this, but now she does without being told, as you do in dreams. Last night she looked for this invisible hallway; now she finds herself walking down it. It's a light place, visually, with off-white walls and no clutter. The hallway keeps winding behind her and in front of her, so she sees neither beginning nor end.

Now Usopp is there, too, or perhaps he was there all along, walking quickly so she has to hurry to keep up. His body is half transparent, the walls and floor visible through it. So is her own, she notes when she looks down at herself, though she doesn’t feel any different from normal.

They pass openings in the hallway, windows without glass panes. On the other side she sees their crewmates engaged in daily activities on board the Sunny: cooking, training, studying, repairing, playing music, doing maintenance, fishing... She even sees her normal untransparent self, sitting at her desk drawing maps. Like the rest of the crew, the other Nami doesn't look up to see them pass. The others can't perceive that the corridor, less otherworldly than through-worldly, is there right among them.

At some point Usopp takes her by the hand. Though she lengthens her steps, he keeps being just slightly ahead of her. His hand feels strong and warm in hers despite them both being see-through.

"What's the hurry?" she asks him, then gestures at the walls. "What's the deal with all of this, anyway?"

Usopp shrugs. "Don't ask me," he says. "It's your head, I'm just passing through."

"My head?" Nami looks around, trying to find something that looks like it could be hers in the empty corridor. "But then I should have found it before this... shouldn't I? I thought I was exploring something new."

He starts to say something, but a sudden wind rises and drowns out his voice. It messes up their hair but doesn't shake the thin walls, nor does it seem to reach the ship and sea outside the hallway.

"Why can't they hear us?" wonders Nami, glancing through an opening to see half the crew relaxing on lawn deck. "It's like we're ghosts… Both of us."

Usopp nods and keeps walking briskly. "Uh-huh."

"Why?" insists Nami, frowning as she runs a few steps to catch up. Of course, she could simply jerk her hand loose and walk at a slower pace, but she kind of really doesn't want to do that.

He turns his head and smiles at her. "Why not?"

"Ah... Er..." She doesn’t find the words to reply with. Usopp raises his head, sniffing the air attentively, then gets an alarmed look on his face.

"Come on!" he exclaims. "We've got to hurry!"

She catches up at last and now they’re running side by side, going faster and faster. Nami tries to watch over her shoulder but can't see anything. "Are... are we being followed?" she pants. "Someone chasing us?"

"Probably!" he replies. "But we also need to catch – Now! Jump!"

All at once, the walls vanish, but so does the ship and the crew that should be outside them. The two of them are hovering up high in the air, still holding hands; a strong wind is keeping them aloft.

"– the breeze," Usopp finishes, raising his voice to get heard.

They're not above water. Below them lies a varied landscape of fields and forests and towns; deserts and rivers and mountains. It's much closer than the ground was from Skypiea, and Weatheria usually drifts a good deal higher than this, too. They are quite high up, even so; at least two thousand metres. Yet despite the strong wind, she isn’t cold in the least.

"This is a little bit more than just a breeze!" she shouts to him.

"No, it's not. It's just that we're so light right now," he insists. He's become more solid-looking, she notes, making her wonder if he's mistaken. Ghosts are transparent, and probably don't weigh anything. Shouldn't those two things go together?

"But..." she says, "...you're not looking so..." _...ghostly..._ "...I mean, you look more real."

Usopp nods. "You, too," he shouts back. "But we're still pretty light."

Then the wind dips and they tumble with it, as it dances with them. "How do you know all this?" she wants to know.

"It's a dream. In dreams you just know things, right?"

"But..." _Then how come I don't?_ she wonders, but doesn't say. Instead she looks down again. For some reason she doesn't feel afraid at all, even though they're thousands of metres up in the sky and she has no weather tools at hand to save them if the wind drops. She wonders at that. Usopp shades his eyes and also gazes at the landscape below them with interest.

"Hmm..." says Nami thoughtfully. "You know, that bit that's right below us now looks a lot like Jaya, doesn't it? Only there's a desert right next to it..."

"Yeah, it does!" Usopp exclaims. "And... doesn't the desert looks like part of Alabasta? See, there's a great river over there like the Sandora, and that oasis town could be Yuba!"

They drift a little further, studying the country beneath them closely. Nami sees a city in the middle of a lake that looks indistinguishable from Water 7; Usopp points to a large mountain that is just how they remember the one on Drum Kingdom. "And it's all snow around it, too!" he points out.

"It's like all these islands we've seen that are smushed together with no sea in-between," she sums up. Ought she to be insulted as a cartographer? In truth, Nami finds it more amusing. The details and proportions all match her memory, but in real life she could of course never see them all together like this. It's fun to get the chance to.

She also sees some unfamiliar lands, out at the edges. Could those be islands they have yet to visit?

The wind grows fiercer still. "Look out!" she cries, leaning to the right, just before they're thrown topsy-turvy in the air, not losing their grip on each other. They both let out laughs of surprised delight when they're right side up again.

"Hey, Usopp! Usopp!" She tugs at his hand. "I figured it out! Why I'm not afraid. We're like leaves!"

His eyebrows shoot up into his hat. "Leaves?"

"Yeah! If we're as light as you say, we're not going to get hurt even if we do fall down when the wind stops! So there's nothing to be afraid of." Nami feels quite smug having thought it through.

"If you say so," says Usopp, trying to shrug while floating. "But I don't think the wind will stop."

They bob up and down a bit, Longlong Island and then Little Garden rolling out underneath them. There's a small, peaceful silence. Nami tries to think of things to say, questions to ask. They don't turn up. No words in her; she has nothing but herself, hanging in the air like a moment frozen in time, feeling the sunlight and not letting him go.

Something small, sparkly, crackling appears, bouncing in the air in front of them, quick and formless.

"That's another piece of me!" exclaims Usopp. "Quick, Nami, capture it! Give it a shape!"

"O-Okay!" she yells back, not stopping to ask how she's supposed to do that. She fumbles in the air, but it's too much to try to catch with only her right hand free. "Hold my belt! I need both hands."

Usopp swims in the air until his free hand, the left one, holds her belt somewhat awkwardly, her floating a little underneath him. Not until then does Nami lets go of his right hand and starts to push against the wind, finding the right angle to move her forward.

"Tangerine! Be like a tangerine," she tells the small sparkly shining thing, her hands moving around it as if rolling it into a round bun. And it works, amazingly. Tangerine-shaped, the thing is easy to catch, settling into her hand joyfully with a tingling sensation.

She holds out her left hand again and Usopp catches it, letting go of her belt. "Good work!" he says happily. There’s pride in her, and returning slow sadness. "What do you mean by 'another piece of me'?" she starts to ask him, but the words get tangled up in the wind and then a hot storm reaches them from below, spinning them around. A bell is sounding from far away.

Nami tries to focus on keeping the shining sparkly thing safe, managing to say, "Don't worry, I'll put it in a secret pocket." Dust blows up between them, but she thinks she sees him nod and smile at her right before she wakes up.

 _Yes, that's right,_ she thinks, looking up at stalactites in the ceiling. _The kind of secret pocket you can only reach when you're dreaming._ She sighs very, very quietly, feeling the weight of the day to come descend on her.

*

The grass is wet when they get out of the mountain, and remains a little humid at the cliff to the south. It must have rained tonight; it's clearly more than just dew. But now the weather will stay clear for the rest of the day, Nami estimates. The air has turned fresh and crisp, with a hint of autumn in it.

Brook's new song has no words, and Nami is grateful for that. The melody alone summons so many memories in spite of its newness. It feels like a story, _their_ story, the part of it that began for her when she sat foot on peaceful Syrup Island. Words would have been far too much.

But the song prompts another song to rise in answer inside her, one that does have words she knows by heart. She waits, though, while Chopper and Robin and then Zoro acts and speaks; while the coffin is lowered into the grave. Then she clears her throat and starts talking.

"I want to sing an old song. It's just a little lullaby that Bellemere sang to me and Nojiko when we were little. I know you know it too, 'cause I remember you sang it to me once, that time back on the Going Merry when I was really sick. I was pretty out of it, but I remember that."

She smiles for a short moment, though her throat feels tight. "Maybe your mother used to sing it to you, or your dad... maybe it's common all over East Blue or just on our two home islands. I don't know. People don't talk much about lullabies."

She pauses, standing up straighter, then takes a deep breath and starts singing.

The song is very short, its lyrics as simple as its tune. It's about a little boat that goes out to sea to sail the world and find treasure. At the end, it goes,

"Then when it turns cold  
It sails back into harbour,  
Coming home to me,  
Coming home to me."

In her mind's eye, she sees the mix of landscapes from the dream, from their journey, stretching out before her like a welcome.

Maybe, she thinks, he wasn't just using her dream to say goodbye to the great wide world as well as to her, as she had first thought when she woke up. Maybe he wanted to remind her that a part of him would keep exploring new islands with her. With them all.

She keeps her right hand cupped, still feeling the bounce and tingle of an invisible ball of sunshine. And maybe if her cheeks are wet, that's not so bad after all, she thinks fuzzily. The sun makes the tears shine, too, after all.

 

********

**Franky**

 

It takes him a long time to fall asleep properly, despite being so tired from the previous day. He keeps tossing and turning for a long time. Finally, sleep happens.

Until he hears a voice right by his ear and feels someone shaking him by the shoulder. He tries to ignore it, but they're being persistent.

"Oi, Franky. _Franky._ Come on. You've got to get up."

"Ngrrnuhh?" he protests articulately, intending to indicate it's far too late or early for whatever it is.

Another shake. "Come on, Franky. Don't just lie here all week."

He mutters a curse and then finally sits up, rubbing his eyes before he activates his night vision. When he looks around he can't see anyone else awake: the others and the merfolk are all sleeping soundly. Only then does his brain catch up to his ears and he realises whose voice it was – the same one he's heard, in quiet moments, appear behind him for a month. He starts and sits up in a panic that he'll be too late.

There's a movement in a far right-hand corner of the cavern, and a faint light as from a half-covered lantern glinting for a second before vanishing. "Wait!" he cries out raspily, shooting to his feet. Maybe there's a door over there, too, even if he never saw it during the day? "Oi, wait up!" He starts to jog, then run towards the corner.

There isn't any door there. Just an arch made of bricks above an opening in the wall; beyond it, a bricklaid tunnel stretches out. Far down into the tunnel a faint, moving light again winks at him, then turns around a corner and disappears. Franky follows into the tunnel, tapping the bricks with a finger. It sounds solid enough.

At the other end he steps out into a room not much smaller than the cavern he left behind, though with far less open space. No other door, but high up on one wall are a few unwashed windows that let in sunlight. It doesn't occur to Franky to wonder about that. The cavern is in night space and this room is in day space – okay, fine.

More importantly, the room is chock full of interesting stuff, lying in big heaps; it looks like a terrific mess of a place, like a combined scrapyard/storeroom/workshop. There are tubes and wires, dials and cogwheels, planks and iron bars, joysticks and ball bearings and springs... There's a workbench surrounded by tools; there's also grease and rags and machine oil, plus a few bottles of cola over in a corner.

About halfway down the length of the room, Usopp is standing by the workbench, leaning forward on his elbows. He seems to be working on something already, staring at a large sheet of paper and a small item on the table: there are also bits of string, iron tacks and tiny pieces of wood in a heap. Franky cranes his head to see the small item better, but he can't tell from over here whether it's an appliance of some kind, or a model of something bigger.

Usopp looks up and brightens. "There you are," he says, sounding relieved. "I tried to talk to you before, but you kept waking up."

"I, uh, had stuff on my mind," mumbles Franky, unsure of what to say. He starts making his way across the room carefully, not wanting to upset the big heaps of scraps with his bulk. Some of the piles were looking pretty precarious. "So this really is a dream, then."

"Yeah, sure," says Usopp, now holding his bit of paper upside-down as he looks at it critically. "Hmm..."

"But is it a _dream_ -dream, or more of a... really-there dream?" Franky wants to know. Considering what that psychic merman told them yesterday...

"Well, um..." Usopp rubs the underside of his nose thoughtfully. "It's kinda like this, I think. I can say what I like, but I'm not sure if you guys can hear everything I say. Maybe you just hear what you feel you're ready for, you know? This dreamland business isn't as easy as you'd think."

Franky nods thoughtfully, then stops in front of a pile close to the workbench. "Huh, this looks like parts of an engine..." Mostly to make his hands do something, he starts to put the disassembled parts together again.

"This ain't fair, ya know," he blurts out, surprising himself. "I'm the one the others are gonna turn to the most when it comes to filling up the gaps you're leaving. Doin' things you used to do. Not all of it but a lot. And then they'll be unhappy 'cause there's no way it's gonna turn out the same, most of the time. Even if some of it turned out the same, they won't like that either." His voice drops, growing rougher, "Neither would I."

He doesn't turn his head to look at Usopp, though he can see from the corner of his eye the other has stopped moving. "And I know saying that just makes me sound like a spoiled brat," he keeps going, even though part of him thinks he should shut up. But it's like a ball that's started to roll downhill, now. "Figure it's worse for everyone else, anyway. 'Cept maybe Brook, and he's had it tough enough in his day..." He slams down his fist on the floor, loudly. "DAMMIT! This ain't super! I wasn't even going to say that...!"

There's a long silence. Franky tries to control his breathing without looking up. He stares at his hands and the pile of materials right in front of him, too miserable to even be properly angry at himself. Working on automatic, a section of his mind is still picking out the engine parts among unrelated scraps in the heap.

Then there's footsteps, as Usopp leaves the workbench and mercifully doesn't sit down right next to Franky - that would burst open the flood-gates for sure - but moves to the other side of Franky's pile. He, too, picks out an engine part from the pile and puts it down on the floor next to the parts that Franky's already gathered.

"You weren't building ships for years, right?" he says quietly. "Only dismantling them. How many years was it?"

"...Eight," mumbles Franky, also rummaging in the pile again, one hand stopping it from toppling over.

"Right," says Usopp, nodding. "But you're not gonna do anything like that again, right?"

Franky shakes his head violently. "No. No, no." His voice is hoarse now. " _Hell_ no."  
He stares again at the bits of machinery, blinking.

When he looks up again, he sees Usopp nodding as he hands him a pair of bellows. Franky has to fight the urge to start bawling. All the core parts of the engine are gathered now, so he starts to put them together. Once he feels he's got control over his voice, he goes on, "B'sides, I promised Chopper I'd keep trying."

It doesn't take long to finish the job. Usopp is now holding the same small thing he was studying at the workbench. This close, it's obvious it must be a model of some kind, unless it's a toy.

"What's that?" asks Franky, giving in to curiosity. "Dirigible raft?" The square wooden thing has a keel and a steering bolt, but no sails. Half of the structure is a lot higher than the rest, too.

"Yup! It's powered by wind dials, see?" Usopp points at a couple of superfluous screws at one end of the minuscule raft. "I've been trying to figure out how to turn a part of this into a kind of launch, say with cola-powered rockets..." He shows Franky his sketched outline, with tentative parts struck out.

Franky hums thoughtfully and puts his head to one side, engine already forgotten. Then he gets an idea. "Lemme borrow your pen, I just thought of something..." He starts to scribble it down, Usopp coming over to peer over his shoulder.

"That looks workable..." Usopp says slowly, smacking his tongue. He puts the model down on the nearest semi-straight surface (an easel on top of a spinning wheel on top of a mountain of things) and starts to adjust it, taking some things off the model and adding others. "You mean like this? I think it'll work better with this angle, though."

They work on it together for a while, drawing and pondering and building the model. Franky's so absorbed he even forgets to be curious about why Usopp wants the thing in the first place. At last they both agree that it's pretty much done. Usopp lets the model stay where it is but takes the sketch, folds it up carefully and puts it in one of his pockets.

"There we go. This works," he says with a small but proud and fond smile. Franky's glad he isn't overly cheerful and grateful. He doesn't think he could handle that right now.

 _Hey,_ he thinks. _I know the Kabuto can only shoot things. But if I keep it in my lap sometimes when I'm working by my drawing board, d'you think it could give me ideas?_ He almost starts to ask, but then stops himself: he doesn't want to hear a "No", after all.

Instead he says, drumming his fingers on the frame of an iron stove, "Guess you're gonna talk to everybody."

Usopp nods, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "If I can reach them," he says quietly, scuffing his foot on the floor.

"Ah... Yeah." Franky flexes a shoulder thoughtfully. "What about Sunny?" he asks "Talkin' to her too?"

"If I can _get_ there." Usopp frowns uncertainly and strokes his chin scruff. Then he looks over at Franky. "Maybe you could help me with that. She's strongest in your mind, I bet."

Franky looks at him sceptically, leaning his head to one side. "Huhh? How do I help out with that? Whaddya want me to do?"

Usopp waves vaguely in the air. "I guess you could just... just think about Sunny, picture her in your head. Then you could picture a door going from here to the ship," he suggests.

Franky sighs, just a little bit, then straightens up and flexes his fingers. For the first time, he manages a smile, if a rather grim and brief one. "Okay, then. Get ready for some super thinking." He closes his eyes and focuses.

When he opens his eyes, there is indeed a new door a bit further down the nearest wall of the room. "Hey, it worked."

Usopp wanders closer to it. "Yeah. But... Franky, this looks like one of the doors on Puffing Tom. It's probably going to lead there instead."

Franky frowns and then swears, realising he's right. "Man, what's wrong with my head this week..." he mutters, then tries to de-imagine the sea train door. It promptly disappears from the wall.

This time he makes more of a mental effort, like the way he'd picture Sunny in his mind while drawing out the blueprints, or the strong nostalgia that would haunt him during the two years he was apart from her. He imagines himself being powered by dream energy, running through him like invisible cola, as he sets all the details clear in his mind and comes up with a good route to reach her. Then he ends with a dramatic pose pointing upwards to a spot on the ceiling. A round hatch appears right there, with a rope ladder unfolding itself to fall down towards the floor.

"There," he says, not a little proud as he wipes a bit of sweat off his chin. "That'll take ya up to the Lawn Deck."

This time Usopp does break out in a great big grin. He opens his mouth and seems about to say, "Thank you!" – but then he instead grasps one of Franky's hands (well, grasps part of it at least) with both of his own and shakes it. "Brilliant!" Starting to reach for the ladder, he looks dismayed as he falls just a few inches short. "Uhh..."

"Ah, guess I misjudged a bit," says Franky. "No prob. Here!" He grabs Usopp around his middle and hoists him up in the air carefully, then belatedly realises he kinda doesn't really want to let go.

Too late, now: Usopp has already wriggled out of his light grip; now he pats one of Franky's hands and starts to climb up the ladder. Franky lowers his arms and watches him go higher and higher to the distant ceiling, the dusty sunlight in the top windows making him harder to see, until the now-tiny figure opens the hatch, there's a glimpse of sail and blue sky; and then the hatch closes again. By then, all the things in this place have vanished, and Franky is standing alone in an empty warehouse.

*

Morning comes and at breakfast everyone seems quiet and pensive, but much calmer than the day before. They start to talk about how to go on about the funeral in low voices. Franky asks the mermaid folks for a few sheets of paper and to borrow some pencils, then hands the items out to all his crewmates except for Luffy, saying he'd like for them to draw their own pirate flag-symbols. He knows from old games and conversations that everyone's got a flag theme worked out for themselves, but he doesn't have them all memorised. They're not all good at drawing, but that doesn't matter as long as he can get the gist of the design.

Then they start walking up the tunnel inside the mountain, Zoro and Sanji carrying the stretcher with Robin's help. Franky walks behind them next to Nami, who carries nothing at all, and Brook who's brought his violin along. Franky himself only carries his tools, and the flag sketches.

Weather is nice outside, clear and crisp and sunny. Sanji and Zoro put the stretcher down as everyone settles to wait for Franky to do his work. He walks into the forest with an axe over his shoulder, waiting till he's out of view before he starts to eye the trees around him. Finally settling for a great cypress tree, he quickly fells it and starts to work the wood into a coffin.

Though he takes great care with it, it doesn't take him much time to make all the sides smooth and polished, lid included, and to set the lock with its double set of mechanisms into place (one that's easy to open, for use on the way there; another that's much harder, for when the coffin's finally lowered down). He could start doing the decorations right here, but he's already decided to hold off on that until he's back where the others are. That way they'll be able to see the work right away.

But he can already see it all in his mind, the way he's planned it out. Down along all the sides, he will carve the different symbols of the whole crew, starting with Luffy's by the head. He's worked out that there'll be room for pictures of Sunny's and Merry's figureheads as well – and also, as urged by Nami and supported by Luffy, the flag of that Vivi girl who sailed with the crew for a while in the past, before Franky's time.

On the lid he intends to carve a big sun flanked by a smaller moon and a set of stars. Below that will be Usopp's own pirate flag symbol, of course; then, finally, a row of stylised waves under that.

Maybe some people would wonder at such a lot of effort for something that will only ever be seen for a few hours, and only by the crew – then never again, by anybody. It's not as if he thinks Usopp's spirit demands all this stuff. It is simply something Franky wants to do, needs to do now that he can, as he never could when it came to Master Tom.

But before he goes back to the others, before he starts carving out the decorations, he's gonna stay here out of earshot for just a little while longer. If that makes him whiny and selfish, then so be it, he doesn't care. Because now he can finally allow himself to let go.

 

**

**Zoro**

 

Zoro walks in a darkness that's almost but not quite total. There is a very faint light that comes in from somewhere, but he can't tell from where; it's not enough to show him where he's going or what he leaves behind, only the barest outline of his own body and a mere hint of the ground in front of him.

He holds the green Kabuto in one hand, recognised by shape rather than colour. There's a very low, vibrating hum coming from it. At times he thinks it sounds like someone mumbling inaudibly, but when he holds it up to his ear it goes back to a buzzlike hum.

Or maybe he's simply too distracted to listen properly. Because the swords by his side are only two: Shusui and Sandai Kitetsu. Wadou Ichimonji isn't there, and he can't see it anywhere in this great engulfing darkness.

And then, finally, bright light in front of him in the form of a burning torch. He squints and shields his working eye as he comes closer to the source. As he realises he half expected, it's Usopp who's standing there with the torch in one hand. And holding Wadou in the other. Zoro walks up to him, then stops, folding his arms.

"Finally," the sniper says, looking relieved. "Figures you'd be the hardest one to find. Come on, let's get going."

Zoro stays put. "...You're carrying my sword," he points out.

Usopp shrugs. "Only fair, right?" He nods at Green Kabuto. "You're carrying _my_ weapon." Zoro tenses up at that – _Do you want to get it back?_ he thinks, but doesn't say. After a beat, Usopp puts his head to one side and smiles briefly. "Relax, it's just for a little while. Until we get there." He starts walking, holding Wadou on the other side from where Zoro is.

Well, Zoro isn't going to start lunging for the sword, nor will he propose a trade. He tightens his hold on Kabuto and follows.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

Usopp doesn't turn his head. "Depends. Where do you want to go?"

Zoro thinks for a moment, then shrugs. "Doesn't matter. Some place where there's booze, I guess."

"Okay," says Usopp. He scratches his nose and nods. "No problem, I can do that." And then they're off to walk down dark narrow passages, Usopp leading them in what feels like haphazard turns and twists to Zoro. They're both quiet for several minutes.

Then, just as Usopp's torch sputters and goes out, there's another light in front of them - a lantern, hanging askew above a broken wooden sign over a door. Zoro can't make out the words, but it looks like the sign of a bar or pub. Only then does he realise he must have been wrong this whole time: they haven't been walking in mountain tunnels as he thought, but rather through the narrow alleys of a town on a dark clouded night, with no street lamps.

Usopp tosses aside the torch and presses down the door handle, but then he pauses as there is suddenly less darkness around them. Zoro turns around and looks up, where a silver moon crescent has just sailed out from a sea of clouds, now spreading its light on the quiet city street with its brick walls and rubbish bins, window shutters and prowling cats. And then they step inside.

Despite the broken sign, the place inside looks more scruffy and forlorn than seedy; sparse in its decorations and lighting, but still relatively clean. Some of the chairs and tables are unusually rough and misshapen, not that that bothers Zoro any. There are no other patrons in sight. The bar itself is the most well-kept area, with its polished dark wood and the two bright lamps hanging over it.

At the opposite end of the bar sits the bartender, smoking a pensive cigarette. She looks up as they sit down at the bar, and Zoro recognises Shakky of Sabãody. But while her smile is friendly enough, she doesn't seem to be in a mood to chat – she simply slides them one bottle each before they've even said anything, and without asking for money. Then she goes back to smoking and looking off into the distance.

Usopp lets go of Wadou, not handing the sword over but instead putting it down to lean against the side of the bar between them. Zoro lays Kabuto down on the bar itself. They open their bottles: Zoro drinks deeply, Usopp more moderately.

He doesn't recognise the taste, and the bottle has no label. The drink feels smooth but potent, like something that hasn't yet revealed its full power. It tastes of summer nights on land or misty evenings at sea, of possibilities, discoveries, and unforeseen wisdom.

Usopp breaks the silence first. "It looked just like that the night we first fought together. Remember? When the Black Cat Pirates attacked, there was a new moon."

Zoro nods. He does remember. Full moons always make him think of Kuina, of a secret fight and a promise made on a night like that. He's pretty sure that from now on crescent moons will always make him think of Usopp.

Usopp leans his chin on his hand and looks out into the air with a thoughtful, faraway expression. "It was pretty terrifying, that time," he says softly. "But it was more scary thinking I'd fail than just not making it. First time I realised that." He adjusts his hat a little, drinks some more.

Zoro's eyes fix the Kabuto lying in front of him on the bar. _Don't sound like that, don't look that way,_ he wants to tell Usopp. _You're not supposed to say that kind of thing._ It's too much now, all of a sudden, even in a dream he's too tired. Things he's kept suppressed for all this time start to bubble up, helped by the booze and the moonlight outside and the fact that it _is_ a dream.

"I still think it's all wrong, you know," he says in a low voice, not raising his head. "It wasn't supposed to happen." It wasn't fate. Or at least it wasn't the kind of fate that Zoro could recognise and acknowledge. Zoro continues. "The cook got mad when we had a council…" He recalls Sanji's outburst that day, exploding in a way the others hadn't dared to, "...he wanted to imagine you in a peaceful future, with your wife and children and grandchildren, telling everyone stories about us…"

He finishes his first bottle. Shakky slides down four more bottles towards them; Zoro halts them and opens a second one, without turning his head to look straight at Usopp; but he’s very aware of the now quite still figure beside him.

"I wanted that, too," he goes on, his voice still low, "but more than that, I wanted to see who you would become. If you would be a captain one day, maybe not like in your stories… maybe better. Or if you'd set that aside for real and become… something else, I don't know what it'd be. Something different from the kinds of pirates and warriors I already know, something new." It is not a thought he's ever put into exact words before, but it has still been there for a long time, vague and half-shaped. "Different from the rest of us, too, 'cause you already lived your dream. You conquered it every day, just by surviving."

In the corner of his eye, he sees Shakky stub out her cigarette and takes out a big notebook that she starts leafing through, in her inscrutable bartenderish way. He puts down the second bottle and starts on the third. This one has wine in it, red and strong.

Darting a quick glance at Usopp, he sees him nodding his head a bit, not like he agrees but waiting for Zoro to go on, looking guarded and wary. Zoro turns back to stare down at the grain of the wooden bar, of his own calloused hands and the polished green wood and white bindings of Kabuto. He isn’t done yet. More words that had been crushed down come spilling out.

"But you abandoned us. I wanted to see the kind of person you'd become, I wanted you to stay by our side in battles to come. And you just… fell. You weren't supposed to go ahead and do that. _I'm_ the one who ought to have died the first of us, didn't you know that? Luffy was right, you really are an idiot." His voice grows thicker and shakier. He puts down the bottle slowly, a careful movement.

Usopp shifts in his seat, looking uncomfortable.

"Don't think that would have made anyone happier," he mutters. "Geez, Zoro, you're not shy about bringing out the big guns, are you?"

Zoro flares up. "And why the hell should I be? You LEFT! Again!!" He takes another deep drink, then goes on in a much lower and even gruffer tone, "And I never got to tell you I'm really proud of you. Guess you might've known, though."

A long pause follows. Small sounds fill the air: creaking walls, Shakky turning over a leaf in her notebook.

Finally, Usopp clears his throat. "If you're expecting an apology, forget it," he says roughly, just a hint of tremor in his voice. "I'm not Merry."

"No, I don't, and I never said that," Zoro protests. "What the hell good would that do?" He thinks a little, one hand wandering over to Kabuto and seizing it. There's still a hum there. "But you did say it to Kaya," he points out, the report of Usopp's last words still very clear in his mind. "Mermaid said so."

It's Usopp's turn to drink deeply, from another bottle of wine. "That's different," he mumbles, softer now. "I couldn't keep my promise to her."

Zoro bristles, a hot fire of fury inside him now. "Yeah?? And what about us, then? You think that was just okay?" Has it been there all the time, this fire, only hidden away in the protective cocoon around him? Zoro suspects so.

This time, Usopp actually flinches; but then he straightens up and seems to rally. He turns in his chair to face Zoro more directly, leaning on one elbow, the other arm resting on his leg. "So," he says in a low, tense tone, "the next time Luffy is in great danger, or it looks like he is, you're gonna just ignore it if it might be too dangerous for you?" He snorts disdainfully. "Pfft. Like I'm supposed to believe that."

"That's not the same thing!" Zoro insists, though in the back of his head he's aware his logic might be failing.

"Why not?"

"It – it just – it’s _not_." _Because we never viewed death the same way._ "And I should have been there," the words tumble out now, and he knows this is the strongest, deepest part of his fury, "I should have stopped it." He has to let go of Kabuto, afraid he'll grip it too hard and snap it in two by accident. Instead he grabs the edge of the bar, feeling it starting to crack under his grip. _I wasn't there. Too busy with less important fights. Never realised you were still alive when we left the island. Should have known, should have sensed it. All wrong, wrong,_ wrong _now._ It's been a month and he's still burning. He didn't even know this fire was in him, all hidden away and pushed down so deep he couldn't see it before. "Should have..." he whispers hoarsely, can't go on.

Usopp rubs his eyes, then sits back. He hugs his arms for a moment, looking down, then folds them more properly and looks straight into the air with a tired expression. They're both silent for a while.

Zoro's aware his logic is lacking on the face of it, but he refuses to take anything back. If he did that... he's not sure what would happen. Something would break. And it would feel like a lie.

Then Usopp leans forward again, chin in hand, no longer looking tense and defensive. "Maybe... maybe I'd be just the same, in your shoes," he says thoughtfully, starting to spin an empty cocktail glass around on its edge. "Hell, I'd probably throw stuff at you to start with." The glass goes faster and faster. A sparkle appears inside it, growing stronger. "You're still wrong, though," Usopp adds, but not very loudly. Zoro holds his tongue, watching the spinning bottle closely. There are odd colours within it, metallic and purple-grey.

Usopp lets go and the bottle keeps spinning on its own, without slowing down, until the sniper snaps his fingers. A tiny bell chimes, and then the whole thing dissolves into a shimmer and a yellow butterfly which promptly flies away and out of sight. Zoro blinks, rubbing his eyes, then starts drinking again.

"Hey," says Usopp. "I wanted to ask you something."

Zoro nods shortly, calmer by now. He's released the bar’s edge. "Okay."

"About that." Usopp nods at Kabuto, lying next to Zoro's hand. "It works like I'd hoped. You guys will be stronger like that. But... you and I both know it's only a stopgap. All of you are better suited for other kinds of fighting."

Zoro puts a protective hand around the big slingshot. "Getting cold feet?" he asks in a low tone, managing to keep fear out of his voice.

Usopp shakes his head. "No way. I'm only saying this to you now, 'cause I don't think the others are ready to hear it. One day you're going to run into someone out there who's real good at sniping, someone who wants to sail with us and is someone we'll like and that Luffy will want. It may take a long time, but I'm sure it will happen, eventually. There has to be someone out there like that. It's a big world."

He opens a new bottle and takes another drink. "So. I'm selfish, okay? If there's a person like that, let them handle Kabuto. And if it works out fine, if they don't have a style that's too different from mine, then they ought to be allowed to stay." He looks at Zoro, very seriously. "When that happens, it would be good if you could stand up for the new one in front of the others. Tell 'em it's supposed to be that way. It makes the best sense."

Zoro twitches. "You're saddling me with that now?" he growls. "It's up to Luffy in the end, isn't it?"

Usopp nods. "Yeah. But maybe he won't be sure. And the others might make a fuss." He starts to slide empty bottles (the ones that Zoro emptied, mostly) back over to the bartender's corner. Though Shakky isn't there anymore, Zoro notices only now. "Or," Usopp adds, "no-one might even think of letting them try the Kabuto in the first place."

Mouth thinning, Zoro folds his own arms and leans a bit away from Usopp, resentment coursing through him. _Why does it have to be me?_ Surely one of the others would have been able to see the reason in this, too. Would they still say no? Would they forget about it after waking up? He doubts it.

But fair or not, he _is_ the one who's being asked. Swearing under his breath, he kneads his forehead and slumps a bit. "Fine." He bends down to pick up Wadou, putting it in his lap. "I will. But _only_ if they really are compatible like that. In every way." He glares at his crewmate. "And that's assuming there even is someone like that who we will run into."

Usopp looks relieved. "Sure." He turns back to look down at the bottle he's just opened, then frowns. "Nah, I've had enough," he mutters. Instead, he waves a hand over it and it turns into a cup of steaming hot coffee.

"Show-off," says Zoro, milder now. For his part, he'll stick with the booze. His hands are trembling when he raises the bottle. But he drinks it slowly, and it feels like he drinks it all in, now, taking this moment in with him, putting it where it should be in his heart and his mind. When he lowers the bottle again there is nothing left, and his hands are steady again.

"Hey," he says suddenly a little later, "have you talked to everyone else now?" At Usopp's raised eyebrows, he goes on, "When you ran into me, you said I was the hardest to find."

Usopp shakes his head. "No, not yet. But I know where Luffy's gonna be."

"Okay. Good." Zoro nods. He raises his air and sniffs: the air tastes differently, now, like it's not all that far from morning. One of the windows must be open.

A movement. Zoro spins around, swords at the ready. But it's only Shakky who's come back from wherever she's been. She's putting up chairs on the tables and blow out the few candles still burning.

Or... is it Shakky? He was sure so at first, but now he wonders. The height is the same, and the movements, but the figure is wrapped in a coat with a cowl, face half-hidden. A chill runs through Zoro. _No. Don't come here. Not yet._ He stands up in front of Usopp in useless protectiveness.

But then she pushes the cowl down and it is Shakky after all ( _or it became her again; we're in dream country now_ , Zoro reminds himself). She's quite unperturbed, as usual. "Closing time, boys," is all she says. The two ceiling lamps go out at her wave, and the bottles disappear.

"Hey, maybe we're not ready to– " Zoro starts to say, but Usopp stops him, tugging at his haramaki. "It's okay, she's right," he murmurs. "Hold on, just gonna drink this up..." He finishes his coffee in one gulp, then stands up and dusts himself off. "Come on."

He walks towards the door, his steps light and easy, and there is nothing for Zoro to do but follow.

"Mind your step," Shakky murmurs behind them, even though the threshold is not very high. Outside it, however, the ground – the ground moves. And it isn't stony pavement, but planks on a deck.

"So, we're on a ship now," he says, blinks briefly but not terribly surprised. He looks around in the moonlight, as bright as from a full moon. "Doesn't look like Sunny, though..." Not like Merry, either, for all that he still dreams of their old ship at times. The sky is already noticeably lighter in one direction, though he sees no hint of a rosy-yellow glow over there yet. The moon has almost set, with one point of the crescent touching the horizon to meet its reflection.

Usopp seeks his hand and presses it, just once. But when Zoro turns his head he's not there anymore.

Yet something – instinct, perhaps, the memory of all Usopp's grandly romantic stories – propels him to walk over to the railing at the side where the moon is, and look down. And sure enough, there he is, standing on some kind of raftlike skiff holding a tiller. There's no sail and hardly any wind for that matter, but the tiny vessel has already started to move away from the unknown ship, even so. Maybe there's some kind of cola engine driving it, Zoro thinks fuzzily.

If it had been him there on that skiff, Zoro isn't too sure he would have looked back. But it isn't him, and Usopp does turn his head and looks back. _He's always been the type who does that,_ thinks Zoro, raising a hand slowly. The sniper is hard to see well with his face against the moonlight, but his teeth gleam, so he must be smiling. And he's waving back. Then he turns again to tend to the small boat. He seems to be heading straight towards the setting moon.

Zoro keeps looking, the cold fresh breath of the night's last hour on his face, his cheeks hot from the booze, his three swords by his side.

When he can't see him anymore, he turns his head and wakes up. Only then does he realise he left Kabuto behind at the bar, and panics for a moment until he sees it lying on the cave floor where it should be, between the still-sleeping Nami and Luffy's empty bedroll. Zoro has to touch it for a moment, reassured by the tingling presence still in it, before he lumbers off for the morning wash.

*

He eats breakfast slowly, listening to what little small talk there is, agreeing or not to the important talk about the day to come. Then it's time to go, to help carry the stretcher with Sanji and Robin, darkness and emptiness all around them. It takes a long time to walk up the path.

He waits on the green mountain slopes as Franky carves their symbols all over the coffin, marking it bit by bit as belonging to them all. It's a beautiful day; Nami's sure it's been raining. Robin gathers flowers. Now carrying only the spade strapped to his back, he walks the rest of the way with the others, breathing in the air that seems even fresher now. Autumn has come.

They reach the cliff with the sea at both sides, western and eastern, and a tall boulder on it. It will do, he quietly agrees with the others. There's no need for him to speak up and say so.

He unstraps the spade and starts digging with Sanji. They make the grave as deep as it needs to be. The silence is as wide as the sky.

Then there is music and words that break the silence briefly; there are also quiet gestures that don't. Brook's new song still echoes in Zoro's head as he watches Robin step back from the coffin with an empty flower basket. He walks up there, intending to close the lid, but then he stops himself. He feels like he's on the brink of something, and has to focus to regain his inner balance. When he starts to speak it's with a husky voice; he hasn't been talking since breakfast.

"I bet there's new adventures where you're going. I don't think those other lands, or the journey to them, are without their dangers. But you've got a weapon." He nods at the black Kabuto that Chopper's just put there, and the pouch of ammunition next to it, all surrounded by flowers. "Maybe you'll find Merry there. And you've got... you. I'm not worried." He swallows. In front of this still figure that he helped wash and wrap yesterday, the words all sound very clumsy. There's no way he can make them sharp and clean enough, like a good sword cut.

So instead of going on, he just draws Wadou and lets the tip of the sword touch the black Kabuto where it lies. The slingshot itself will stay in the earth until it rots, of course, but who's to say there can't be a spirit of the trusted weapon, one that can go on to be somewhere else? And if there is a way Zoro can share some of his own strength and will, it is worth a try.

There is a part of Usopp left with them in Green Kabuto, now, lending his strength to stay with them. They can all feel it, they just need to accept the weight of it. It feels right to try to pay back a little of that gift – but there's more to it than that. Privately, Zoro thinks as he sheathes his sword and gently closes the lid, that perhaps there is another, smaller spark of Usopp's that will be in Wadou from now on.

He steps back and watches as Robin and Luffy together lower the coffin into the ground, then closes his eyes when Nami starts to sing an old lullaby. Yes. It may be so. Kuina's will can find room for Usopp's courage.

 

*

**Luffy**

He is standing on a long, windswept shore. It's early in the morning and the sun is still hidden by the tall trees of the island's forest, but the sky is as blue as it ever gets,. It's going to be a fine day.

The beach looks longer and wider than he remembers, yet he's absolutely sure this is one of the beaches of Usopp's home island. Because he recognises the cliff overlooking it, with the one tree right next to the edge. That was Usopp's special place and it's where they first started to become friends, talking about Yasopp and stupid butlers and great pirate dreams. He wants to reach it now, that spot where things began. It seems to him that if he could only get there, he could get back to how it was back then, all those many months and years ago. And they could redo everything all over again except he'd do it _right_ this time and save his friend in time.

So he aims at the tree and starts to stretch his arms... Or he wants to. But nothing happens. The arms stay their normal shape. He pulls at his right arm with his left, but only feels a pinch of pain, just like a regular person would.

And yet there's no seastone around, he's perfectly dry and doesn't feel weak at all. He frowns. "Mystery," he mutters to himself. "Where the heck did the rubber go?" Focusing really hard, Luffy tries to stretch again, but to no avail.

"Hey, Luffy!" cries a voice behind him. "What're you doing?"

Luffy spins around. There's Usopp, standing on a small boat, almost a raft except it seems to have a lot of stuff for a raft; a big tiller that Usopp's holding, a long oar, a tiny mast with a ragged flag on it, and a familiar red cape tied to it like a sail. It's not the Strawhat flag, but Usopp's own symbol. One part of the boat is higher than the rest and there's a big crate standing there.

But it's the nineteen-year old Usopp, not the shorter and skinnier seventeen-year-old Luffy was hoping for in order to turn it all back. The black Kabuto sticks up from his usual bag across the shoulder. He's holding the tiller and steers towards Luffy and the shore.

"I wanted to get to the cliff!" says Luffy. "I thought you'd be there! What are you doing on that raft?"

"Isn't it obvious? Coming to see you! But I can't stay long," Usopp adds, as he picks up an anchor. "I'm on my way somewhere."

"I thought you'd be sailing on Merry." This is just a dream, Luffy gets that now. But it still feels important. It’s also the first dream he’s had in a month where he remembers Usopp clearly, not just in hints and little pieces.

"Merry is flying right now." Usopp half turns around, pointing up and away. Then he drops the anchor into the sea. "I'll get up to her later, once I get out a fair bit."

Luffy looks up into the sky, seeing nothing but blue. But he doesn't think Usopp is lying. "How're you gonna do that?" he asks. He really does want to know, but aside from that, he just wants to keep talking, and keep Usopp talking so he won’t turn away.

"Noooo problem!" Usopp's waves his fingers confidently, then points at the crate on the high end of the boat. "I've got rockets in there to launch me with half the raft. Worked it all out with Franky before, so it's gonna be just fine." He grins widely. "Besides, I'm an old hand at raft-launching. I used to launch whole flotillas of rafts up into the sky!"

"That's a lie, right?" Luffy tilts his head, then feels a smile start on his own face, too. "That sounds really cool, the rockets I mean."

Usopp straightens up, flexes his arms, and then... Luffy's jaw drops. Usopp's arms stretch out as if _they_ were rubber, he grabs hold of a rock on the beach and then he's yanked into the air, flies about fifty metres and lands in a spray of sand.

"Hey!! How did you do that??" Luffy exclaims.

Usopp gets up and starts dusting himself off. "Oof. The landing part wasn't as easy as it looks."

Luffy points at him, confused. "You took my devil fruit!"

Usopp shrugs. "You were me for a while, can't I be you for just a couple of minutes?"

"Huh." Luffy considers that. "Well... I guess that's fair. But I'm gonna need it back when I wake up." He doesn't much want to think about waking up, though.

"Don't worry about it." Usopp gestures at the sea. "I'm not going to sail way out there without being able to swim." Luffy nods. Something holds him back from walking right up to Usopp and making sure he's there. Because if he isn't, if he turns out to be all ghostly, it would really suck.

Instead it's Usopp who walks up to him and bonks him on the head, not very hard.

"Hey! What's that for?!" Luffy rubs his head. At least it wasn't ghostly.

"That's for calling me a dummy, dummy!" Usopp huffs, "You think it was easy, coming up with all that wise stuff? Ptch, I thought I was doing great." He puts his nose in the air all pretend-snootily.

Luffy pouts. "No-one forced you to say that stuff." He shoves Usopp on the shoulder. "But telling us to listen was good," he adds, more quietly.

Usopp shoves back, smiling a little as he looks down and nods. "Yeah," he says quickly. There's a pocket of silence. Luffy looks down at the sand and grass and seashells at his feet.

"Hey. Luffy." Usopp pulls off his blue-and-white armband, then holds it out to Luffy. "I'd like you to have this. You already took this back there in the mountain, right? You should have the dream version, too."

Luffy opens his mouth to ask him if he's sure, then shuts it. He must be. "...Okay." The armband is dry and warm (unlike the real one), and fits really well on his arm.

He fingers the brim of his hat, pulling it around a bit. "I wish I had two strawhats. Then I could give one of them to you." Usopp laughs a bit at that, looking surprised, but in a good way. Luffy looks around, but there's still just the beach, the forest, the cliffs, with nothing interesting on it – no washed-up treasure chests full of cool stuff, or driftwood in interesting shapes, messages in bottles... Nothing he could give in return.

Digging in his pockets, his fingers closing in on something hard and flat in one of them. Oh. Right. He'd forgotten about that.

"Look." He takes out the impact dial and holds it out to Usopp. "I found this yesterday morning and thought it was mine, but that was when I was still kinda crazy. It's yours, isn't it? D'you want it back? Maybe you'll need it." For all he knows, there might be... stupid demons or real crazy ghosts or other weird stuff on the way to wherever Usopp needs to go.

Usopp hmms thoughtfully, eyeing the dial. "Isn't that the one I hurt you with back then?"

"Maybe?" Luffy hasn't thought of that. He shrugs. "Does it matter if it is? That was a long time ago."

"Yeah, it was." Usopp sighs softly, smiles a bit. "Long time now. It wouldn't be that bad if it were... hm. What to do, what do to..." he mumbles to himself, scratching his chin hair. "Nah, I don't think so," he finally says, putting his hands in his pockets. "Even if it's not that bad, there's still a weight to it, you know? I think we're only supposed to take stuff that keep us light."

Luffy sighs and puts the dial back in his pocket. "Fine... but that's no fair, you should still get something, too. Hey, wait." He points at Usopp's bag. "Do you have a marker in there?"

"Lemme check..." Usopp starts rifling through the bag and digs up a marker after a little while. "Here it is. Why?"

Luffy takes it. "Hold out your arm. You need something else there now." He draws an X on it, like they did before landing in Alabasta. Over that he draws the Strawhat symbol: maybe it's not quite as neat as when Usopp draws it, but it's still the right one. "There, now you got both flags with you." He grins, not quite as wide as he usually would. Usopp looks at his arm, laughs in half surprise, then opens his mouth only to close it right again. He closes his eyes for a moment and looks pretty happy.

"It looks really good, Luffy," he says in a low voice. "Thanks." Looking up again, he smiles and adds, "Everyone's gonna be all right, you know."

A lump in Luffy's throat that's been there for a while is a bit too big all of a sudden. He nods, his grin gone. "I know."

"I was in Sunny's dream," Usopp continues, "and everyone of us was a small boat, sailing around the ship. Then the sea turned to sky and we all turned into all kinds of seabirds, flying around it and shouting and stuff. Never stopping." He takes out a tiny toy boat from his bag, one that looks just like his new raft-boat thing. "Can you hold this for me? I just want to get some bark."

"Are you gonna make little boats?" Luffy follows him to the nearest tree, an evergreen with plenty of good bark that's easy to tear off. Usopp starts to do so, handing them to Luffy. As soon as Luffy receives them, they all turn into tiny carved boats, some even with twig masts and leaves for sails. "Coool!" he comments, meaning it. He remembers playing at things like this with Ace and Sabo, even if they had to beat up alligators in the creeks first at times. Luffy was never all that good at the carving bit, though.

They walk over to a spot on the beach where the sea fills into a tiny stone basin, putting all nine boats there. Right then the sun rises over the treetops and the waters glitters around the little boats while they dip and rise together.

"That's good," he says, sitting down on his haunches to look at them.

"Yeah," Usopp agrees, squatting down as well. "But I guess..." His voice trails off as he picks up his own boat, gives it a considering look, then breaks it in half. Luffy's about to protest, but swallows it when Usopp puts half the boat back down with the others. It's still floating. The other half goes back inside the bag.

"You're gonna have to let them fight again, you know," says Usopp without looking up.

The boats don't seem as bright and happy anymore. "...I know," mumbles Luffy, biting his lower lip. "'S not fair to them otherwise, I _know_. I was nuts before," he adds defensively.

Usopp turns to him and shoves him a bit again, smiling. "All right. Hey, if you don't shape up, I'll just have to start haunting you!"

Luffy blinks. "I thought you were already haunting us!" he points out, but the thought still makes him feel better.

"Oh yeah, I guess one could say that..." Usopp splashes his fingers in the water, wipes his hand on his trousers and gets up on his feet. Luffy pokes one of the boats with a stick and then gets up as well. "Well," Usopp announces, "maybe I'll learn how to make Green Kabuto tickle people! Then you'll watch out!"

A slingshot with weird tickling arms? Luffy laughs, even though he also has to wipe his eyes just a little. "Well, so what? Then I'll just tickle back!" He sticks out his tongue. "Dumbass!"

Usopp grins real widely now. " _You're_ the dumbass!" And then he just steps closer and hugs Luffy tightly. Luffy hugs back, even harder. He really is all warm and solid.

"You have no idea how damn proud of you I am," Usopp whispers roughly.

 _Don't let go._ It's all Luffy can do not to say it out loud. He just holds on, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing tightly, unable to speak. Breathing, breathing. His arms are trembling now, no, his whole body is.

He's afraid Usopp will let go after just a few seconds, but he stays like that, he stays. For as long as it takes for Luffy's breathing to steady, for words to be possible again.

"How long?" he finally manages to whisper.

"Huh?" Usopp breaks off the hug and takes half a step back, blinking at him.

Luffy licks his lips, swallows once more, and tries agan. "You-in-Kabuto. How long?"

"I– I'm not sure," says Usopp, looking serious. "I think at least until you become the Pirate King. Maybe longer." There's a hungry, wishing look in his eyes. "I really want it to be longer. Um, those souls who were tied to the bone whistle before, they said they'd try to give me as much time as they could. Some... it was some part of the spell they could redirect, before they all passed on." He makes a vague circling gesture with both hands.

Then he reaches out to pull at Luffy's mouth and lights up. "Hey, hugging worked! You're rubber again!"

"I am!" exclaims Luffy, and has to help pull it too just to make sure. It may just be a dream, but it's still nice to have his powers back. Even though he's forgotten what he wanted them for, earlier.

"Okay..." Usopp says slowly, takes another step back. Then he unties his shoes, steps out of them and hikes up his trouser legs. He nods towards his boat. "Guess I'll have to go on now, can't stay here all day..."

"What? Hey, that's not fair!" Luffy protests while Usopp starts to wade out towards the raft, carrying his boots. "Are you just gonna leave me here?? This is your home island way back in East Blue, I can't stay here! I have to get back to where everyone is!"

Usopp gives him a surprised look over his shoulder. "Luffy, it's a _dream_ ," he says patiently. "You'll just wake up and be back."

"I know it's a dream, idiot!" Luffy starts wading into the water as well. "But what if I still get lost? I was lost in my mind for a month, you know."

Usopp sighs. He's reached the raft now. "Don't I know it. But I _can't_ let you ride with me, it's not allowed... Though maybe..." He gets up on the raft and turns to point at the basin puddle. "If you take one of the small boats and try to make it bigger – just think it big, you know – you could get in that one. But you can only go with me a short way!" he adds quickly.

Luffy doesn't question the advice. Make it bigger, okay, why not? He turns around and runs to the basin, picks one of the little bark boats at random and puts it into the water. Then he leans back a bit, puts his hands on his hips and gives the boat a stern look. "Okay, grow!" For a moment nothing happens, but then there's a big creaking sound and there's a real boat in front of him in the water, made of planks and not bark. No sail, but who cares, he can row.

"Great work, Luffy!" Usopp shouts, and there's a sharp twinge in his chest at that but Luffy still grins in response. He jumps into the boat and pushes it out to deeper water with one oar, then starts rowing properly. Usopp has already hauled his anchor and waits for him, then just sits down and presses down on a familiar-looking shell at the end of his raftboat, one of a whole row of them.

"You've got wind dials! No fair!" Luffy says happily. "Bet I can still row faster, though."

"Oi, I'm just using this one for now." Usopp looks pretty smug, though, settling into a crosslegged pose while still holding the tiller. "Since there's not much wind. Anyway, yeah, there was this great scrapyard thing in Franky's dream. Figured I might as well take advantage."

That does sound pretty neat, Luffy has to admit. He looks at his own boat. "Hey, you know, this looks just like the boat I first set out in on my home island. Except I brought a barrel of water along. If it hadn't been for that, I'd have drowned for sure."

Usopp makes an incredulous sound. "What, that small? You're nuts! Not even a sail?"

Luffy laughs. "Yeah, that's what everyone said, but I didn't want anything bigger. It was fine for the first hour or so, though!"

To Usopp's questions, laughs and groaning remarks, Luffy continues telling him of those early days, meeting Coby and Zoro and the crazy Marine Captain, then running into Nami and Buggy. He can't quite keep the story in a straight line, but that doesn't really matter. They're moving slowly over the waves, driven by oars and dial, with sun on their skin and salt in the air.

Luffy's right in the middle of talking about the weird white dog who turned out to be quite cool, when he realises he can only hear his own voice talking. It's dark around him and the air smells of cave.

*

He opens his eyes and looks around him. Early daylight comes in from the opening at the mountaintop, and Shaman-Guy and Mermaid-Doctor are standing around their stove with a fire crackling under it. No-one else in the crew seems to be up yet, though.

He pulls his knees up and hugs his legs, then just sits like that for a while, staring into the grey morning light.

Eventually he turns his pillow over and picks up Usopp's armband. It's a lot warmer now, but not dry yet. Luffy gets up and slowly walks over to the stove, nods hello to the merguys and puts the armband on a spare part of the stove so it can dry. A pot of porridge is boiling there, and he can't stop his stomach from rumbling.

But first he turns to the merman and mermaid and tells them what kind of place they want for the funeral, a cliff that's high up and not too many trees but close to the ocean. Oh, and with soil that's easy to dig in. "Is there anything like that around here?" When Ananshio tells them there is a place like that far to the south, which overlooks the sea both to the east and to the west, Luffy nods in satisfaction. "Okay. We'll all go there, and see if it's good enough."

Ananshio slips into the water and swims away to do some breakfast fishing, which Luffy can only approve of. He pulls out the impact dial still left in his pocket and shows it to Piriko. "Hey, do you know what this is?" She shakes her head and looks curious, so he starts telling her all about how it works, finishing with "...so even if you're not strong you can deal with much stronger people like this, you just throw their power back at them." He thinks for a moment and adds, "But it can be rough on your arm if you're not prepared for it."

"Still, it sounds quite amazing," says Piriko, reaching out to touch the dial carefully but avoiding the button. "What a clever device."

Luffy grins. "Yep. Anyway, you guys can have it if you like. You never know! You might need it one day if some jerks come around again." Well, they'll need more stuff than this, actually, but that's a thought for later. "I don't use them myself, so..." He keeps holding it out to her as she looks hesitant.

"Well..." she finally says, "if you're sure... It's a great gift. Thank you very much, Monkey D. Luffy." She smiles softly as she takes the dial, putting it on her medicine table. "Maybe my daughter will want it some day, when she's older. She'll be quite the warrior then, to listen to her!"

Luffy nods again. "Good."

*

When they all walk off after breakfast, he leaves Kabuto and the bag behind in the cave, with their packs. They don't have to be taken up there. It's different.

*

Nami finishes the lullaby and the air is full of silence as they all stand by the grave. The coffin is in the ground now, and soon they'll need to start covering it with earth. The air is fresh, swift winds passing by. Seagulls are calling further away.

Luffy sits down in the windswept grass, crossing his legs. Sitting is easier than standing.

"I don't wanna start talking," he says, roughly and slowly. "I don't wanna say anything." He pauses, looking at the ground, adjusts his blue-and-white armband. A ladybird creeps up one of the blades of grass, then flies away.

"I don't wanna start talking," Luffy repeats, faster now. "'Cause then I'll have to stop talking later. And that will really be like saying goodbye. To the part of you that _won't_ stay with us. And I don't want to do that."

He goes on. "You were in my dream last night so... so maybe that means you wanted to do that, then. But just because you were ready for it doesn't mean I am." He swallows. Everything is big and bright and raw and hard, really hard. Luffy squeezes his eyes shut, pressing his hands into tight fists, nails digging into his palms. Breathing in, out. His pulse roars in his head.

"...it's not that important what I want," he gets out at last. A long exhalation, then he stumbles awkwardly to his feet, takes a step forward.

Usopp wouldn't want him to say 'Sorry', but he can still say this. "Thank you," he whispers, then coughs and tries again, louder. "Thanks for holding out so long, waiting for us. For telling us what to do, for K-Kabuto." _For joining up, for sailing with us, fighting with us, laughing and joking and sharing your dream, for being one of us. For being you._ His throat is all thick again, and all those words won't come out, he can't make them. "...For all of it," he says simply. Tears are trilling down his cheeks now, but he manages to stand straight, only wiping away the worst of it.

And now he can find nothing left in him to say, no words to capture from the air. He turns his head, looks at the rest of his crew - he will always think of it like that from now on, never simply _the crew_ as an unbroken whole again - and finally settles his gaze on the tallest and oldest. He nods at his musician. And Brook takes up his violin again and starts to play "Binks' Sake".

Brook plays it differently from all the times he's played it before, neither party-happy nor alone-sad-lonely. Somewhere in between. He also plays stronger and wilder and more beautiful than Luffy's ever heard him, putting all his soul power into the tones as they pour out like wine, like great green waves over the cliff, the crew, the forest behind them, shore and sea below them.

The music goes out, out, further away, and Luffy thinks the merfolk must hear it even if they're still in the mountain, or swimming in the sea. The beasts of the island must hear it, the sea currents further away. He can feel it in his mind, the music travelling on secret paths known only to the best of musicians, flying over the New World, the Red Line, the first half of the Grand Line, the Reverse Mountain, East Blue... up ten thousand metres in the sky and down to the bottom of the ocean, he can hear the melody flowing. _Our song. Our song._

A voice starts singing the words, shakily; it's his own, faster than his thoughts. He doesn't try to match the strength of Brook's violin, doesn't make the words ring out, just sings them as best he's able to,

 _"...to deliver Bink’s sake,_  
let's follow the sea breeze, follow the waves,  
There's a great big sun in the evening sky  
and it blazes bright and red...”

Bit by bit, the others join in, some with words and some only with low hums, while Brook only lets his instrument speak.

And then – just then, only then, only for an instant, a moment as thin and brief as the glint of sun on the edge of a quickly moving blade – he feels like the music takes him to a glimpse of Elsewhere, of something deep and wide and high and very very strange, where the sea is not the sea and the sky is not the sky and nothing moves yet everything does. Far, far away there are sunlit waves behind a great dark passage, but the song rises, rises; unfolds its wings and flies and moves and keeps striving.

It's too much, the next moment it's gone again in his mind, and he puts a hand on his chest and the other hand on his arm and stands there in the sunlight of the day, singing the words of that old song with everyone. All of the words, until Brook lowers his violin. Then it's over, and there's only one thing left to do. They've only got two spades, but this time everyone wants to help, and hands can carry earth, too.


	14. Epilogue: On

Absence, chapter 14: On  
(Epilogue)

 

Over the following few days, the Strawhats went about preparing themselves for the next step on their journey. They were not in any hurry: they didn't have a log pose, after all, and while that fact would no longer stop them from setting sail, they knew it would be arduous and chancy to travel that way. Best to be as thorough as they possibly could. And although they didn't say it to one another, they all still felt the effects of emotional exhaustion.

The most vital thing to take care of was their food supply. Sanji set about it as best he could on an island with little in the way of agriculture, apart from the seaweed the merfolk grew and harvested. He sent out most of the crew on assignments to go hunting and gather fresh water, fruits, spices, berries and other edibles they could find, though he took the brunt of the work upon himself. At Piriko's urging, he finally accepted a sack of hand-ground seaweed flour once he had seen for himself the merfolk still had plenty left over.

By then the merfolk was more than just the one small family. On the fourth day of their stay, six more members of Ananshio's and Piriko's tribe came to the island, in response to messages sent out weeks earlier. Piriko's sister, nephew and brother-in-law were among the new arrivals. At first they were sceptical of the reported big changes, and very wary towards the Strawhats: but soon they were convinced the reports of the slain King of Seakings and the broken curse were quite true. "It's in the air, you can feel it, and the animals are so calm it's crazy," they said to each other, as they decided to settle there for good again.

It turned out that Piriko's sister had befriended a human woman, and now she argued that they allow her friend and her friend's fiancé to come to the island for at least a little while. They were in trouble with their hometown's government and needed a place to lay low. Ananshio was in favour of letting them. "Humans will come whether we want them to or not," he said, "and with the curse gone they'll be able to stay much longer. Might as well let them come on our conditions and as friends instead of strangers... or enemies."

Piriko agreed, and then surprised even her husband by suggesting they build new main dwellings for the tribe in the shallow waters of the protected northern cove, even though that way the top of their houses would stick up over the water, very visible from land. "That's the point," she said. "If we're supposed to live with humans, we can't go on being super-secretive. Let's build alliances and make it more in their interest to stay true to us than it would be to betray us."

The next day, two more people of the tribe turned up: an enterprising young couple who had found a recent shipwreck on the way and gone through it quite thoroughly, picking out all the valuable things they could easily carry. After they had heard the full story from Ananshio and Piriko, they were happy to present the prize of their haul to Nami. It was a log pose.

Turnweed Isle's magnetic field only took an hour for the log pose to set, so at this point they could have chosen to leave right away. But when the crew talked it over the same day, they either had no firm opinions or felt, like Nami did, that they were still in the middle of stuff they'd like to finish up with first. So they stayed on a while longer.

Brook was one of the ones with no firm opinions. He roamed the island, helping out when he was asked to, or where he saw a need, but mostly he just played songs to anyone who would listen, from mermaid elders to platypuses. These days, he wasn't as scared of solitude as he once had been. A lot of the time he would simply stare into the air and pluck the strings in a desultory fashion - but it was during those days he came up with the words for the first verse of "Captain Usopp".

Luffy was more rarely alone. He spent his time in the company of one or another of his crewmates: he was subdued and quiet a lot of the time, but he couldn't suppress his curiosity whenever it was woken – which was often. The others found it quite comforting not to see him either grimly aloof or full of false and deluded cheer.

And he also started to give Nisi some basic fighting lessons, stances and techniques. That should hardly have worked, given that Nisi could only move slowly and with difficulty on land, while Luffy couldn't get into the water and teach her there. But she seemed to get something out of it, even so.

Zoro hunted, meditated, and trained. When they had enough meat for the day, he might fight some of the big animals barehanded or with the flat of his sword, for sparring rather than killing. There were those who kept seeking him out for a rematch.

Nami mapped the island, made sure necessary chores were taken care of both on and off the boat, and went swimming with the mermaids. Since there was time to be thorough, she also took a tour with the Mini-Submarine to note the underwater topography in the surrounding sea, keeping an eye out for interesting spoils (but saw nothing). The only thing she left out from her island map was the hide-out inside the mountain and the tunnel that led there: that wasn't her secret to disclose.

Franky took the rubber band from Nisi's slingshot and dipped it in a special mixture that made it preserve its elasticity even when exposed to water. Now she didn't have to worry about getting it wet anymore. She still couldn't use it to shoot with under the sea, though; for that she would need something different, like a harpoon gun. Franky started to make a small and light one for her, but when Nami told him rather forcefully that it wasn't a great idea to give that kind of thing to an eight-year-old, he actually listened.

"Oh yeah, I guess you have a point," he said, scratching the back of his head and changed the proportions as more suitable for someone with longer arms and bigger hands. Then he finished the weapon and handed it over to Nisi's parents. "You'll have to be the ones to judge when she's strong 'n' smart enough to handle this. Uh, just don't be too stingy, okay?" Because it was a pretty super weapon if he said so himself, the kind he'd have just loved to own when he was that age.

Nisi was still very happy with just her improved slingshot, however, and swam up the island streams a lot those days to practice. Zoro got quite used to hearing the sound of her target-shooting – still mainly using pebbles and pine cones – even in the innermost depths of the forest.

Robin would hear the sound, too, as she went through old half-buried ruins with her archaeological tools and a notebook. She had plenty to do in those days. On the day of the funeral itself, she walked back to the poneglyph stone and read it, finally. Nodding solemnly at the end, she let the message sink in deep into her mind. She had to take care of it: no-one else would. "I'll trade stories for it," she whispered to herself, still seeing in her mind's eye the Going Merry with near-invisible wings, floating serenely through golden sunlight.

She also re-read an old book of hers about the warriors of Elbaf, paying particular attention to their traditional design styles. Then she spent an afternoon putting that knowledge to good use. And then there were the ruins and the two different mountain tunnels to go through, which proved quite interesting indeed.

Sometimes, she went fishing.

Chopper kept as busy as Sanji or even more. He spent a lot of time with Piriko, as they gathered medical herbs together and she pointed out the ones he wasn't familiar with, species unique to this island; he would also forage alone or with a crewmate. Some of the herbs were so common on the island that the mermaid told him he could fill up many sacks with it and there'd still be more than enough left for the merfolk, and Chopper wouldn't stop collecting until he had no more space to store them on the Sunny.

They also talked plenty of shop in Piriko's cave and in his own infirmary, when she came for a visit there; they'd compare potions, tools, and literature, discovering they owned some of the very same books. Above all, they exchanged case studies, and discussed each other’s methods, learning new ways to approach different situations. Soon he got to hear even more, as other healers from the tribe turned up, eager to talk to the reindeer doctor from Drum Kingdom – and Chopper didn't really mind. He was far from as shy as he used to be, these days.

Even as his eager hands would often still, his voice lose its shine and falter, when the weight and pain and emptiness hit him harder, again. _It will always be like that. It can't be helped._ He'd wipe his eyes, and nod to whoever he'd been talking with to go on.

And then one day around noon, things changed.

Luffy was fishing at a secluded spot on the island with Kabuto next to him, as it often was, when suddenly he felt an invisible shift in the air. He raised his head, sniffed uncertainly, then reached out to touch Kabuto only to start back with wide eyes. He looked at the weapon for a moment.

Then he nodded. "Okay. I get it." He got up, returned to Sunny, and gathered the crew together.

"It's time," he told them.

Nobody objected now; they had all been given enough time to see their different tasks through. Within the next few hours, everyone brought back the things they needed to Sunny, then either followed Nami's commands in preparing the ship to sail the next day, or Sanji's instructions for a big dinner.

It was still too soon for them to feel like holding a real party, but they did invite the merfolk to dinner, at least. As a way to say goodbye. And there was, eventually, music and some singing, if not yet dancing. "That will come," Brook said quietly. "At a different place." They suspected he was right.

Piriko gave them a big pile of cloth made of the island's special seaweed, and her sister Dina followed up with five big jars of fruit preserves. Ananshio told them very seriously, "What I said before is still true. There is nothing we don't owe you." He handed over a Dendenmushi, one of a set of two that his younger relative had also found on that same seawreck. "These two are already on the same wavelength," he said. "Anytime you're in big trouble, just let us know and we'll send as many of us to help as we can spare. We may not seem like much, but we can swim very fast and we are very good at healing." He paused, then added more cautiously, "And I think once the local seakings get back from the Calm Belt they'll be more amenable to reason again, like in the old days. We could never command them, but I've heard that we did use to come to agreements with them, including trading our medical help for their assistance with combat and transport."

Luffy nodded, accepting the offer along with the gift. "But it goes two ways," he said. "You can phone us too if you get trouble."

"That's right," Sanji agreed. "We still have the shitty Eternal Pose to this place, after all."

"And Sunny's no slouch in getting places quickly, either," Franky pointed out.

At that point, Nami came up and put something soft and black that had been folded up into Luffy's arms. Luffy handed it over to Piriko and Ananshio, but looked at all the merfolk when he said, "You guys can have this if you want to, but you're gonna have to decide for yourselves. 'Cause it might keep some jerks away, but it could draw some others. Like Marines."

"Marines are no friends of us anyway," muttered one of Ananshio's cousins, who had also spent some time as a slave.

"True, but we'll all talk it over first," said Piriko. Then she hugged Luffy, Nami and Chopper in turn, shaking hands with everyone else; Ananshio shook hands with them and nodded, the others all bowed deeply and waved as they left the ship to go home. Nisi had turned all shy and sad in the last few minutes but managed to smile as she waved the slingshot towards them when they left.

The next day, the merfolk raised a pole at the high mountain pass where it could be seen from far afield, and hoisted their present to the top: a pirate flag, unfurling in the wind (an old spare, painted long ago) declaring to the world at large that this island was now under Strawhat Luffy's protection.

 

*

From that time onwards, the veterans of the island would bring every new settler to the place on the cliff at the southernmost tip of the island, where the great red rock now served as a tombstone. Those from the tribe who returned were also taken there. The humans needed to hear a longer story to understand than the merfolk did, but in the end everyone learned the essentials of the island and its history, why it was a bad idea to mess too much with the wildlife, and why this one place should be honoured. It was also explained why they had chosen to put themselves under the Strawhat flag. Children born on the island grew up hearing the story, particularly on the anniversary on the day the bone whistle was destroyed, when they went with their families to put fresh flowers on the grave.

But in truth, it wasn't the fallen warrior alone they honoured. Great though their gratitude was, that might not in itself have kept the tradition alive. No, when they stood there they also honoured the memory of all their dear ones who had left this world much too early, even the ones who had never set foot on this island. On an isle like this, where rebels and escaped slaves could seek refuge, few people did not grieve for several such losses.

At the base of the cliff, by the forest's edge, they had put up a bench where people could sit, planted a well-kept hedge around it, and made a small round flowerbed with seashells marking its borders. Piriko had wanted to grow more all over the cliff, while Ananshio had argued that leaving it untouched would look more romantic and piratelike. The patch by the forest was a compromise that all the islanders who liked gardening took turns taking care of.

One settler, who had travelled widely, looked at the ancient great red rock and remarked that the inscriptions on it reminded him of Elbaf, the home of brave giant warriors. Piriko and Ananshio couldn't say much about that. But they and Nisi had been present right next to the Strawhats when Nico Robin had very carefully carved into the rock, and they could recall she had had a book close at hand she sometimes paused to look into.

The words on the stone were written in ordinary letters that everyone could read, but they were put inside a long loping band that ran from one side of the rock and then back to the other, with curly ends and small patterns and figures around it: boats and waves, birds and fish, a cloud, a slingshot...

There weren't too many of them, the words. First came the name of the man whose grave it was, followed by two dates of birth and death, too short a time between them. Then it went on to say,

  
_Warrior of the sea // Born in East Blue // Sailed and fought on the Grand Line  
Fell bravely in dire battle // Going On._   


 

*

In the grey light of the early dawn, before the last few stars had faded from the sky and the new day was only a reddish glow on the eastern horizon, the pirates hauled their anchor and set their sails. They caught a good strong breeze that quickly sent them forward, the ship leaning as they steered in the direction the log pose pointed.

The island was already a mere spot far behind them when the sunlight shifted from sunrise-rosy to a strong morning glow on a bright blue sky. By then the breeze had shifted in direction, and the ship sailed straight again, letting it fill the sails. Salt air filled the nostrils of the crew as the seagulls who had followed them so far finally gave up and turned back. There was a certain taste to the wind that made the navigator think there'd be rough weather ahead later in the day, but she didn't let it worry her. The ship and the crew could handle it, and it wouldn't come here for hours yet.

And if some in the crew couldn't stop themselves from glancing behind them to a final glimpse of the island before it disappeared over the horizon, they all turned around after that, facing forward.

Their captain was standing on the figurehead, eyes glittering as he looked at the endless stretches of ocean before him. With one hand he held on to the great lion-head of the ship, its solid wood a reassuring strength beside him; with the other he held Green Kabuto. He raised the weapon high in the morning sunlight, drinking in the whole day ahead of them. He blinked a few times, more hastily than normal, but he wouldn't look down or turn away.

The others in the crew, after making sure the ship was running smoothly, found themselves coming over to the bridge, gathering behind their captain and also looking ahead at the grey-green waves. There were so many things in their heads, so many memories that no longer had a warm, breathing physical anchor right next to them, only a tingling presence in the weapon that Luffy was holding and the beat-up old bag lying on the bench by the steering wheel. For the rest, they would have to hold onto the memories by themselves now, making sure the link held steady. And it still hurt, it still wasn't fair, and they knew there would be times when it would hurt terribly.

But that was how it was. The hurt and the weight and the great gaping absence were part of them, too, and part of their journey to come. That wouldn't make them stop, not anymore.

_We're no longer just surviving. We're alive again._

They looked at each other, then up at their captain, and back towards the sea. Their ship wouldn't steer itself, nor would breakfast be cooked on its own, and there were a dozen little things that would soon need doing. But they still had time to stand here for just a few minutes, together.

Morning sun on their skin, wind at their back. A great strong ship under their feet and around them; a log pose to show them the way. And ahead of them, invisible on the ever-shifting waves yet still always waiting for them, was the path of Adventure.

 

\- The End -


End file.
